


Get the FUCK Out of my Kitchen

by lexus_grey



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Asshole!Charles, Claudia is awesome as always, F/F, Helena has a criminal empire, Helena has scars from an unethical punishment at school, Helena struggles with her sexuality, Helena's entire family is homophobic, Homophobia, Mid-levelmobster!Helena, Myka helps, Myka starts off as Charles's girlfriend, Myka's not cool with that, Pete is a DEA Agent and a jerk, and Myka digs that, and there's no smut between M/C, but I promise it doesn't last long, mentions of past physical abuse of a minor at her boarding school, slow burn (at least for me! ha!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-24 09:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexus_grey/pseuds/lexus_grey
Summary: Helena runs drugs and guns for a local gangster. Myka is dating her brother Charles. They meet and from the first time Helena tells Myka to get the fuck out of her kitchen, Myka's hooked. They form a friendship and Myka helps Helena stand up to her family of homophobic assholes and come to terms with the fact that it's okay to be gay. It's okay to be who she is.*If even one person finds strength to stand up to a homophobic family member after reading this fic I will be extremely happy.*





	1. Chapter 1

Helena Wells looked up as her brother came into the kitchen, laughing, with his girlfriend. "Charles, get her out of here," she said without affect, moving her gun from the tabletop to her lap before the girl could see it. It was bad enough she was counting out profits. She didn't need her brother's girlfriend screaming in terror or something horrible like that.

"My bad," Charles said, ushering his girl back out of the kitchen. "Wait in here for me, babe," he said, kissing her cheek and ducking back into the kitchen with a scowl at his sister. "Heads up text might've been nice," he said, opening the fridge to grab a couple beers.

"I've told you before not to bring her in the kitchen. Just make it a rule," Helena said back, replacing her gun on the tabletop.

"Yeah, that's not strange at all, HG," Charles replied, rolling his eyes. "She'll think nothing of that."

"Then don't bring her here at all," Helena snapped. "I've got work to do."

"Right. Right. Counting out your drug money and extortion profits is considered work in your profession."

"Don't fuck with me, Charles, I'm not in the mood."

He rolled his eyes again and rejoined his girl in the living room.

Myka smiled and accepted the beer when it was held out to her, opening it with her teeth and spitting the cap on the floor. "Why does your sister have an accent and you don't?"

"You could hear our conversation?" Charles asked, trying to pretend that didn't alarm him.

Myka shrugged. "I've got good hearing."

"She stayed in boarding school in London through twelfth grade and I came here with our parents when I was eight."

"Why did she stay there when the rest of you moved here?" Myka found that stranger than not being allowed in the kitchen.

Charles smirked. "She needed some straightening out."

Myka took a long swig of her beer and shook her head. "I won't ask."

"Good."

"Does she really think I didn't see her gun? What did she think I was going to do, freak out and nark?"

"Can we stop talking about my sister? You're giving me a complex."

Myka picked one booted foot up off the carpet and kicked him. "Pussy."

"Ow."

\--

Helena carefully piled the stacks of cash into a nondescript black bag for transport, and was just zipping it closed when the kitchen door banged open.

Her gun was trained on the intruder without a second thought, and when Charles's girlfriend put up her hands in surrender with a smirk, Helena lowered the weapon. "What the fuck!" she shouted into the living room. "Charles, I told you not to--"

Myka interrupted her. "Relax, I'm just getting a fucking beer," she said, nudging past the angry woman to open the fridge.

"Charles!" Helena called, her voice edgy and shrill.

"Your brother couldn't stop me if he tried," Myka informed her, grabbing herself a beer and shutting the fridge, leaning against it as she pried the cap off once again with her teeth and spit it on the floor, this time at Helena's feet. "And it's rude to talk about me instead of to me, by the way. I'm Myka." She held out her hand.

Despite being surprised by this woman, Helena was still irritated to a near-otherworldly degree. "It's rude to spit bottle caps on the floor," she said, refusing to shake the woman's hand. "Get the _fuck_ out of my kitchen."

"Obviously boarding school didn't do what it was supposed to," Myka said with a little snort of amusement.

Helena's eyes burned with the urge to become violent. "Get out," she hissed.

"Keep your pants on, I'm going," Myka drolled, rolling her eyes as she spun and vacated the kitchen.

Helena counted to twenty in her head before moving or she would have followed the woman out of the kitchen and pistol whipped her. She finished zipping her bag, tucked her gun in her waistband and headed out the back door.

\--

"It's all there; don't try my patience," Helena growled at the intermediary who insisted on recounting what she had just counted.

"You know he wants it counted again," the gawky teenager replied. "Don't give me grief, Wells."

"Well hurry the fuck up, would you? I'd like to get home before Christmas."

It took another ten minutes of her huffing and him losing count and starting over twice before he finally finished, and nodded to his immediate superior that the amount was right.

"I bloody fucking told you," Helena muttered under her breath.

The teen's superior approached and took out her cut, handing it to her along with an identical black bag, this one filled with the next round of product. "Always a pleasure, HG," he said, tipping his ridiculous hat.

"Likewise, Marty," she lied, nodding her head toward him, ignoring the teen as she loaded the bag in the trunk and shoved the money in her purse, then got in her car and drove off.

She stopped at her warehouse to unload the product to her distributors and pass each of them their own cut of the money before she continued home.

\--

The first thing she noticed was that Charles's girlfriend's car was still parked in front of her house.

The second thing she noticed was her brother passed out on the couch and the girlfriend nowhere to be seen nearby.

The third thing she noticed was more beer bottles than she could count, empty, strewn about the floor and coffee table.

With a growl, she headed up the stairs to her bedroom, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head to see whatever the fuck her name was going through her drawers!

The muzzle of her gun was pressed to the back of the bitch's head in an instant.

Myka gasped and held up her hands, stumbling as she tried to turn around.

"I do not take kindly to invasions of privacy," Helena said stiffly. "Give me one good reason not to empty my clip into your presumtuous little head."

Myka's eyes were swimming. She could barely tell it was Charles's sister by looking at her because everything was fuzzy. "I'm jus' so curious about you," she slurred desperately. Drunkenly.

Upon realizing that the girl had probably been the one to drink most of those beers and was absolutely fucking wasted, Helena tucked her gun away and cracked her in the face with a fist instead.

"Ahh," Myka cried, falling over backwards, clutching at her throbbing cheekbone. She tried to get up but the world wouldn't stop spinning and she finally blacked out.

"Christ," Helena swore, grabbing the girl by the back of her collar and dragging her out into the hallway. She dropped her there and retreated into her room, slamming and locking the door. She needed Charles to find another place. This was ridiculous.


	2. Chapter 2

Myka woke up on the floor in the hallway with an outrageous headache. It took her several long moments of deep thinking to remember how she had ended up on the floor in the hallway, but when she did, she groaned. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How totally fucking embarrassing. She crawled to the bathroom and shoved her mouth under the faucet to gulp down some water, then searched the medicine cabinet and popped a few pain pills.

When she finally dared to look in the mirror, her eyes widened at the raging bruise just below her left eye. Charles's sister had really hit her hard. Not that she blamed her. What a moronic thing to do, get drunk and try to find out more about your boyfriend's sister by going through her room. Especially a gun-carrying asshole of a sister.

Asshole or not, she owed Helena an apology, and dragged her feet as she approached the closed door, knocking softly.

Helena frowned. That could only be one person. Charles never bothered her when her door was closed. She ignored the knock, until it came again, and she threw her book into the wall, stalking to the door and flinging it open. "What?"

"I just wanted to say that I am so, so sorry," Myka said in a rush, her cheeks bright red. "I'm a terrible drunk; I should know better than to get drunk anywhere other than home."

"I hope you're not expecting a return apology," Helena said, nodding toward Myka's injury.

"No. I'm sure you've never given one in your life," Myka snapped in response. She hated that Helena's obvious hatred of her bothered her so much.

"I've given plenty," Helena challenged, raising an eyebrow. "I went to Catholic boarding school, remember? More knowledge about me that you shouldn't have."

"I didn't know it was Catholic."

"All the worst ones are, darling."

"And they forced you to apologize?"

"Quite vehemently, yes." Why exactly was she talking about this?

"It must've been really awful to stay there when your family moved out of the country," Myka blurted out in a rush.

Helena blinked, staring at the girl in wonder. "I believe it was the greater of two evils," she said, choosing her words carefully. "This family was no picnic. But yes, I suppose I would have liked to have moved with them and not been left behind in that fucking convent."

"My father named his bookstore Bering and Sons even though he only has two daughters," Myka offered, knowing it didn't compare but wanting to say something besides the cliched 'I'm sorry'.

"I don't even know why my brother told you anything," Helena said after a moment.

"Because I asked about your accent," Myka admitted. "About why you had one and he didn't."

"And what was it that boarding school was supposed to do for me, according to him, that you decided it didn't do?"

Myka blushed. "Straighten you out."

"I see. I suppose you're right. No matter how hard they hit me it never took."

Myka's jaw dropped in horror. "They hit you?"

"It was a Catholic boarding school in London," Helena said dryly. "They certainly didn't hug me." Again, why was she talking about this? "I'm very tired," she said abruptly.

"I guess that's my cue to leave," Myka said, offering a small smirk. "I'm sorry again for-- you know." She gestured into Helena's bedroom.

Helena said nothing more and just shut the door.

Myka marveled at how rude the other woman could be, seemingly without even thinking about it. Her headache was starting to fade, and given that she'd sobered up during her little nap, she should probably head home.

\--

The next time Helena saw her brother, she gave him a hard shove in the chest. "Keep your bitch away from my things, and my business," she snapped at him.

"You try keeping Myka from what she wants," Charles mumbled.

"Oh Charles, pussywhipped already?" Helena said with mock sympathy, a hand to her heart. "How long have you been dating this one?"

"Shut up, Helena." He pushed past her and headed for the kitchen to make something to eat.

Three... two... one...

"Ughhhh! Would you get your Goddamn guns and money off of the table? Where am I supposed to eat?"

"Clean the beer bottles off of the coffee table and eat there," Helena called into the kitchen with a smirk. "Your bitch must have outdrank you five to one last night. She was epicly wasted."

"Stop calling her that, her name is Myka," Charles grumped, grabbing a skillet from the drawer under the oven and tossing it onto the stove. When he opened the fridge he growled in protest. "Where's the fucking butter?!"

"Popcorn," Helena answered, joining him in the kitchen and sitting down at the table to clean her gun of choice.

"You used it all?!"

"I bought it all."

"I hate this fucking house!"

"Speaking of, it's time for you to move out. I'm tired of your playthings getting in my way."

"I can't afford to move yet. You know that."

"Please, brother, just find a place and I'll cover it until you can."

"Fine."

"Aces."

\--

Myka was rather subdued as she sat on the sofa with her feet in Charles's lap. "Did you know they hit your sister at that boarding school?" she asked, interrupting the asinine comedy they were watching.

"So?" he shrugged, not taking his eyes from the screen.

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Shh, I can't hear the movie."

Myka was sure he didn't even notice as she disgustedly yanked her feet from his lap and got up to walk away.

\--

Helena pointed her gun at the doorway without even looking when she heard the kitchen door swing open. "There's no more beer. You drank it all last time you were here," she said dryly.

"I think I'm getting too used to that gun being pointed at me, because it no longer makes me blink."

"Perhaps I should use a bigger one."

Myka stepped further into the kitchen and sat across from Helena at the table. "I can help you count... your brother bores me."

"No you may not," Helena said. "Don't touch a cent."

"Why? Are you afraid I'm going to steal your hard-earned money?" she couldn't resist the jab at Helena's obvious line of work. "I'm at gunpoint, remember? No stealing. Swear."

"Don't. Touch. It," Helena said through clenched teeth.

Myka picked up a stack and took off the rubberband.

Helena hit the roof, springing to her feet and slamming her gloved hands on the table, gun still in one of them. "Did you not fucking hear me?" she screamed. "I said don't fucking touch it! Are you fucking stupid, you little twat?" She snatched the money back from Myka and threw it into the sink, running water over the bills.

Myka sat there frozen, eyes wide, hand still in mid-air exactly how it had been when the stack of bills had been snatched from it. She watched Helena scrub the bills clean, a dark blush creeping over her face and neck.

"As if I don't have enough to do without wiping your fucking fingerprints off of my money," Helena complained. "Did it escape your attention that I'm wearing nitrile gloves? Or did you just think I have purple hands?"

Myka hadn't thought it was possible to be more embarrassed than she was the last time she'd been here, but it was. "I-- money's dirty? You might be a germophobe?" she said lamely, her voice scratchy and broken.

"Or perhaps I'd like to avoid being arrested?" Helena shot back with a scowl. She finished washing the money and laid each bill flat on the counter on top of the spread-out dish towel. "You're my brother's girlfriend, so go be with my brother and leave me the fuck alone," she said, finally turning to face the girl. "You've gotten in my way twice now. That's two times too many."

"But all he wants to do is watch stupid movies and he doesn't even care that they hit you at your boarding school," Myka offered quietly, casting her eyes to the floor, unable to look at the furious woman.

"Why are we back to that?" Helena nearly shrieked.

"Because I think it's awful," Myka whispered.

"Pray tell why you find it so awful," Helena said sarcastically.

"Because it _is_ awful," Myka insisted. "Being beaten by people that are trying to change who you are."

The quiet explanation took the wind out of Helena's sails and she sank back into her chair at the table, suddenly at a loss for words. "Don't make more out of it than it is," she said quickly, covering for her momentary lapse.

"They never even hugged you afterwards, right? You told me they didn't hug you?"

"Of course they didn't. They were rigid nuns and I was a hellion. Why does it matter?"

"My mother always hugged me afterwards if I ever got into trouble with my father."

"And you think I care about this why?"

Myka shrugged. "I didn't say I thought you'd care."

"Then why are you torturing me with your prattle? I've work to do, so once again, please, get the _fuck_ out of my kitchen."

"You are really fucking rude," Myka chided, shoving her chair back as she stood angrily and strode from the kitchen.

Charles finally looked up when he saw Myka coming out of the kitchen. "Oh, hey babe."

Myka snarled at him. "I'm leaving."

"What? Why?"

"Ask your fucking sister."

She was gone before he could say anything else, door slammed behind her.

He frowned, but couldn't be bothered to get up and seek out Helena for an explanation.

Suddenly Myka came bursting back in the door and rushed to the kitchen. "Helena, there's a cop outside," she said. She might have been pissed off but she still didn't want her boyfriend's sister to get caught with all those guns in case they weren't registered. Which... some of them looked like semi-autos so they were obviously not legal.

"Bloody hell," Helena sighed, quickly getting up and packing the guns from the counter and the stacks of bills into her black bag and shoving it under the kitchen sink. The money that was drying on the dish towel was folded up in said towel and shoved under the sink as well. She had just shoved her gloves in her underwear when the expected knock came at the front door.

"You're welcome," Myka said as Helena moved past her toward the living room.

"Yes?" Helena asked sharply as she opened the door to the young officer on her porch.

"Good evening Ma'am," he said with a curt nod. "We've had reports of a burglary in this neighborhood and are asking all residents if they've seen or heard anything suspicious over the last few days."

"Oh dear," she said, pretending to care. "That's awful. I can't say that I've seen or heard anything..." She turned to Charles for show. "Charles, have you seen or heard anything suspicious over the past few days?"

He barely turned from his movie. "Nah."

Lastly she asked Myka. "And you?"

"No, but I'll keep an eye out," Myka said, shaking her head.

"Thank you ladies," the officer said. "Sorry for the intrusion. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Thank you, officer, and please let us know if we can be of any further assistance." Her face went from placatingly smiley to unamused as soon as she'd shut the door. "Fucking morons."

"I could've just left," Myka said suddenly. "I didn't know he wasn't coming here to talk directly to you. I could've left."

"Obviously, since God apparently gave us free will," Helena replied archly.

"Did you learn that bent over with a ruler smacking your ass?" Charles chuckled.

He didn't notice the color drain from Helena's face or the way her posture went rigid. Myka did.

"You asshole," she gasped, kicking him in the thigh with the flat of her boot.

"What do you care? She treats you like shit," Charles scoffed, rubbing his leg.

"Not everything is funny, Charlie," she frowned.

"Especially not that shiner," he frowned back.

Myka's fingers fluttered over her cheek, still sore but healing nicely. She blinked when she was hit in the face by a pair of purple gloves. She barely had time to wonder if they were the pair Helena had stashed in her underwear before the other woman disappeared into the kitchen without a word. Myka bent down and picked up the gloves, then ignored whatever Charles was trying to say as she followed Helena into the kitchen.

Putting the gloves on, she sat at the table and waited for a pile of money to be dumped in front of her, then silently started counting.

"There should be five thousand in each rubberbanded stack. Alert me immediately if there's not," Helena said simply, pulling on her own pair of gloves and joining Myka at the table.

"I'm sorry he's so insensitive," Myka said quietly.

"It's best if we don't talk and count at the same time, yes?"

Myka half smirked. "Right."

When she finished counting she waited until Helena was done with the next bundle before speaking. "It's all there. Five grand each stack."

"Marvelous," Helena said, herself only having two stacks to go. She tossed one to Myka and took the rubberband off of her last one.

"Has it ever been short?" Myka asked when they were done and Helena was loading the money back into the bag.

"Once," Helena replied, trying not to smirk.

"Why was it short?"

"I've no idea," Helena lied with a twinkle in her eye. "Don't ask me questions I can't tell you the answers to."

"Righttttt," Myka said, stretching her arms in the air with a yawn, then cracking her knuckles. "I'm sure you had to kill someone to correct the error and you want me to have plausible deniability."

"That or I don't want you to have any more information about me than you've already whisked out of my tightly kept vault," Helena said, zipping the bag and hoisting it onto her shoulder.

Myka stood with her. "Where are we going?"

Helena snorted with laughter. "Are you mad?"

It was the first time Myka had truly heard her laugh. She couln't help the way she knew her face lit up at the sound. "Joking," she offered, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans. The nitrile made that difficult and she took off the gloves. "Were these the ones in your underwear, by the way, or did you get these from the box?"

Helena's grin was wicked. "Were they inside out when I gave them to you?"

Myka's cheeks colored. "Yes..."

"Then I believe you have the answer to your question."

Before Myka could splutter out anything else, Helena was out the back door.

When she returned to the living room, Charles was snoring on the couch. She nudged him with her knee to wake him up and watched gleefully as he panicked awake.

"What the fuck, Mykes?" he asked groggily.

"I'm bored. Your sister had to leave and you're snoring on the couch like a fucking potato. Get up and entertain me," she whined.

"That's a lot of responsibility," Charles grumbled. "Wait, what do you mean my sister had to leave? Why were you hanging out with my sister?"

"I was helping her count money. You were out here being a lazy fuck, remember?"

"Why are you so interested in Helena all the sudden? You're my girlfriend, you should be paying attention to me..."

"I think she's interesting," Myka said with a shrug. "I've had a gun in my face more times this week than my entire life... which was never, before I met her. Did you guys ever visit her in London after you moved?"

Charles's face turned red and he exploded. "My sister's gay, all right?!"

Myka blinked. "And?"

"And that isn't done in the Wells household, okay? Do you get it now? My parents made her stay in London because they didn't want her shaming the family. No, we never visited her, and I'm sick and tired of talking about her!"

No wonder Helena said the family was no picnic. "Well did you at least call her?" she asked, outraged.

"No, I didn't call her! I didn't want my parents breathing down my neck, thanks! I said I'm sick of talking about her!"

"You're her brother," Myka said, sadly. "You never called her, not even once?"

"No," Charles snapped. "Change the fucking subject or leave..."

Myka sank dejectedly onto the sofa. She wanted to tell him what a jackass he was and never speak to him again but then she would definitely never see Helena again. And the thought of that made her sick to her stomach. So she dropped the subject.

Helena had come back in for a soda and ended up with her back pressed to the wall, listening to her brother and Myka's conversation. Her heart was racing, hands shaking as she retreated back outside and to her car, tears stinging her eyes. It was a very interesting thing indeed to hear a near stranger with more compassion than her flesh and blood. Her brother's reticence had always wounded her, but hearing him speak like that just tore the stitches.

She started the car and revved the engine, blood boiling as she peeled out of the driveway and off to meet Marty and the nameless teenage punk to get paid.

\--

"That's better, babe," Charles said, patting Myka's thigh as she settled down.

When he tried to kiss her, though, she wouldn't let him. "Don't even think about it. You're cut off for being an insensitive prick."

"Very funny," he said, rolling his eyes and moving in again.

She backed away from him and stood up. "I'm serious, Charlie," she said, barely able to conceal a shudder of disgust when she looked at him now. She saw him in a whole new light. "Don't fucking touch me right now."

"Jesus, Myka," he shouted, leaning back against the sofa with a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"You were so rude and disrespectful to me I feel like I don't even know who you are," Myka told him.

"I get worked up when you talk about my sister, okay? It's a sensitive subject, okay? It pisses me off, okay?"

"What is this, amateur poetry night? Stop repeating yourself. Just go back to sleep, Charlie." She sank down in the recliner next to the sofa after stealing the remote. She was tired of watching stupid comedies with ridiculous premises.


	3. Chapter 3

"Stop pacing, Wells, you're messing up my count," teenage wasteland growled.

Helena growled right back and stopped in front of the desk he was seated at. "I'm going to mess up your scrotum if you don't hurry the fuck up."

"Marty!" he called. "This is too much pressure. I can't get an accurate count with her in my face like this!"

"I already bloody fucking counted it!" Helena screamed, slamming her gun down on the desk in front of him with each word.

He shot out of his chair, vaulting the desk and shoving her backwards, hard. "And I've already told you a hundred times that he wants it recounted when it gets here!"

"Don't fucking touch me!" Helena snarled, grabbing him around the throat and taking him to the ground in a flurry of fists, knees and elbows.

They grappled fiercely for several minutes until Marty came running to break it up.

When he dragged a hissing, spitting Helena off of the teenager, the kid drew his weapon and fired it at her.

Thank God he was a bad shot and the bullet grazed her upper arm as she stood there in shock that he had actually taken a fucking shot at her.

Marty released Helena instantly and picked up the kid by the lapels of his jacket, slamming him hard enough into the nearest wall to knock him out. He took the kid's gun and shoved it into the back of his pants, then turned and backhanded Helena with a grunt of displeasure. "Sit down and shut the fuck up while I now do his job," he directed her.

She seethed quietly and spit a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor, then backed up a few steps and sat against the wall to wait.

Marty quickly counted the money, then handed Helena her cut and the next batch of product. As she got to her feet, he issued a warning. "From now on, you show up, keep your fucking mouth shut and let him count the fucking money, or we're gonna have a problem. You get that?"

"Yeah," Helena said, wiping blood from her mouth with her sleeve. "Loud and clear." She limped slightly on the way back to her car - somehow he had managed to get in a crack at her knee along with everything else.

\--

The drive was slow and torturous with a Goddamn gunshot wound in her arm and a busted lip along with a throbbing headache and a sharp pain in her knee every time she pressed the brake. She finally made it home and sighed, taking a moment to gather her bearings before she hauled the black bag full of drugs into the kitchen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Myka was in the kitchen. She should've looked through the window first to check - she would've waited until the coast was clear to go inside.

Myka turned when she heard the door open and close, and shrieked.

"Shut up!" Helena hissed, eyes wide.

"Oh my God, what happened? You're bleeding everywh-- did you get _shot_?"

"Grazed," Helena said through clenched teeth. "It's fine."

"And your face, what happened? Who hit you? Are you all right? Fuck. Your sleeve is covered in blood. Is the bullet still in your arm? Jesus Christ."

"Relax, for fuck's sake. It's a graze. There is no bullet or bullet fragment or any other thing you can think of, all right? Please calm down; my nerves are already frayed."

"Come in the bathroom, fuck my life," Myka swore under her breath as she grabbed Helena's good arm and gently tugged.

"I can take care of my own wounds, I've done it a dozen times," Helena said, raising an eyebrow. She quickly but casually twisted her arm away from Myka's grasp.

"Just because you have done doesn't mean you should have to," Myka insisted, preceding Helena into the downstairs bathroom. "Sit."

Eyebrow still sharply raised, Helena carefully limped to the toilet and sat down. She started to remove her jacket but Myka batted her hand away.

"Stop."

"You stop," Helena barked. "If you take this jacket off of that wound I'll likely punch you in the face. Again," she said wryly. "Let me do it. You're lucky I'm even letting you in here at all."

Myka huffed but busied herself finding supplies while she waited.

Helena shrugged out of the jacket on her good side and used that hand to carefully peel the leather away from the bullet wound, a grimace firmly in place, teeth grinding together, but she refused to make a sound in front of Myka. Once the jacket was off, she dropped it in the trash. The hard part was done. At least her tank top wasn't stuck to the wound. She pulled it off easily and discarded her bra, both of those into the hamper. They had blood on them but she didn't care about that. She could have dry cleaned the jacket if the bullet hadn't torn off half the sleeve.

When Myka turned back around she dropped everything she was holding, eyes wide with surprise at Helena's toplessness. She expected the tank top to still be on, or at the very least the bra.

Helena merely arched one sculpted brow and regarded her silently for a few moments, watching her struggle to pick everything up before she spoke. "And you expect me to trust you with those things?"

Myka blushed to the roots of her hair and set the supplies on the counter. "I didn't expect you to be naked," she said by way of self-defense.

"I am not," Helena said, brow remaining raised.

"Topless, whatever, don't argue semantics. I was surprised. Sue me." She tried to get over her embarrassment at her immature reaction and tore open an antiseptic wipe.

"And I'm surprised that you're not running in the other direction at all of this," Helena said in a moment of candor. "And after what my brother said about me."

Myka froze with the antiseptic halfway to Helena's wound. "What do you mean what your brother said about you?"

Helena tried to smirk but it came off as a wistful smile. "I came back inside for a pop," she said quietly, staring at the wall.

Myka's breath left her and she forced herself to continue with her plan of action - the wound should be disinfected sooner rather than later - even though she wanted to pause the treatment and... hug Helena or something. She dabbed gently at the open part of the wound, then wiped away the blood that had dripped down Helena's arm and dried. "I wanted to break up with him after that conversation," she admitted when she was done cleaning and reaching for gauze.

Helena gave no outward sign of the twinge in her brain at hearing that. "Oh?"

Myka carefully wrapped gauze a few times around Helena's bicep. "Hold that there for a second," she said, and when Helena complied, she ripped off a piece of tape and affixed it to the bandage. "All set. Do you want me to go get you a shirt so you're not walking the halls topless?"

"In my own house?"

"Emotional cripple _is_ home," Myka pointed out.

Helena couldn't stop the trill of laughter that provoked. "Fine. I'm sure you know where my tank tops are," she said, finally able to don a genuine smirk.

"I'm glad you amuse yourself," Myka told her. "Bra too?"

"No, I'm not going out again tonight."

"Any color preference?"

"Surprise me."

Myka returned a few minutes later with a dark purple tank top and tossed it to the seated woman. After Helena was clothed, she picked up another antiseptic wipe. "Now your mouth," she said.

"My mouth is fine," Helena frowned. "And I can take care of it myself if it's not."

She stopped protesting when gentle fingers held her face still and Myka tenderly cleaned her split lip.

"I suppose that was preferable to the way I would have mauled it," she admitted after Myka affixed a tiny butterfly bandage over the cut.

"So who the fuck shot you?" Myka finally asked.

"Someone I am forced to deal with almost daily and is barely tolerable on the best of days."

Myka pursed her lips and stared at Helena. "Meaning today was a bad day and you couldn't tolerate him, so you picked a fight and he shot you?"

"Precisely."

Myka leaned against the sink and stared at the floor, fumbling with an unopen antiseptic wipe. "And today was a bad day because you overheard my conversation with your brother?" she asked hesitantly.

"You don't miss much," Helena said cheekily. She stood from her perch on the toilet and sighed. "I must be going."

Myka was between her and the door but not blocking the way. "Helena, wait," she pleaded.

"Hm?" Helena asked unaffectedly though her pulse jumped at the request.

"I just... I'm... I wanted you to know that-- I mean..."

"Right-o," Helena said with a nod and a quirky expression.

"Give me a minute," Myka scowled. "I'm trying to decide how to say it without sounding patronizing."

"Ah, so I'm about to receive the 'pity' speech. I implore you, save your breath. I don't need anyone's pity." She skirted past Myka and out of the bathroom before the other woman had time to say anything else.

Myka followed her out, however, not one to give up so easily. "It's not that," she tried to explain, ascending the stairs behind Helena. When they reached Helena's room, she lamented, "can I please come in for a minute?"

"I'm very tired. It's been a very long day."

"That's what you say when you have no other excuse to get rid of me," Myka called her out. "Give me five minutes. Please?"

Helena's eyes narrowed. "Four."

Myka beamed and entered the bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "It's not pity, exactly, it's-- it's anger."

Helena was intuitive enough to know that Myka didn't mean anger at her. "I do always love to hear about rage," she said permissively.

"Can you close the door?" Myka squeaked.

Helena obliged.

"I'm so angry at your brother for being such a callous neanderthal. And telling him to go fuck himself and die was on the tip of my tongue but I realized that if I broke up with him I--" She glanced at Helena and quickly away when she saw the hawklike gaze fixed upon her. "Well you barely tolerate me as it is."

Helena's jaw dropped. She was normally far more superior at masking her reactions to things no matter what they might be, but she was flabbergasted at that tiny slice of non-revealing revelation. "Why do you so passionately jump to my defense and condemn my brother?" she asked after stewing appropriately. "What have I done to earn such a token of loyalty?"

Myka ran her hands over her face and puffed out her cheeks, exhaling slowly. "I honestly have no idea. It just is what it is."

"Most people do the opposite, you know," Helena commented offhandedly. "Jump to his defense and condemn me."

"You mean your family."

"I do."

"How old were you when they m-- I mean when Charles was eight?" Myka asked, not wanting to directly bring up them leaving without her.

"I was twelve."

Myka's heart ached for her.

Helena sat down on the opposite end of the bed from Myka, her fingers absently fumbling with the many rings she always wore. "My mother read my diary. Needless to say she didn't like my thoughts about the neighbor girl."

Myka slumped against the headboard. "Fucking nosy bitch."

"Ha!" Helena snorted with laughter, grateful for the unexpected levity.

"I'm sorry," Myka said in a rush. "It's just... you know... true."

"Well you're the first person to ever say it besides me," Helena laughed. "Thank you for that."

"Any time," Myka whispered with a light blush. "What did she do?"

"She signed me up for St. Lucy's that very day, and about a month later they left."

Tears pricked the corners of Myka's eyes. "That's really shitty," she offered.

"It was," Helena agreed. She never spoke about this with anyone, so why did it come naturally with Myka? Perhaps because it felt... nice?... to have someone on her side. "I'm not accustomed to talking about myself," she said a few seconds later.

"Maybe you're not accustomed to having someone who wants to listen," Myka suggested.

"Your four minutes are way, way past," Helena observed suddenly with a devilish smirk.

"How were you not counting the milliseconds?" Myka asked, feigning shock. "Maybe I'm not such bad company after all."

"It's not you, darling," Helena said dismissively. "It was never you specifically. I just prefer to be alone."

"Do you really prefer it or has it just always been the most viable option?"

Helena glanced at her sideways. "The two aren't mutually exclusive, I'd say."

"And I'd say you're avoiding the question."

"Because I don't have an answer."

"Then just say you don't know." Myka smirked.

Helena's smirk matched the other woman's. "All right. I don't know."

"Woo-fuckin-hoo," Myka teased her. "Finally."

"All right, now get the fuck out," Helena said, rising from the bed and crossing the room to open the door with a sweep of her hand toward the hallway.

"Can I have your number in case I can't take it anymore and break up with Charlie?"

Helena stood staring in stunned silence. Finally her face twisted into a sort of resigned confusion. "What?"

"If I break up with him I won't be invited back here. I just... wanted your number."

"Oh." She was still standing there staring, though the confusion had faded. No girl since school had ever asked for her number. She felt incredibly awkward, but it would not do to show that. "If you must have it, I suppose I shan't deny you the pleasure," she teased.

Myka eagerly got out her phone and typed the number into it as Helena rattled it off. Then she sent a text that just said 'hi' to make sure she entered it right.

Helena's phone buzzed with the simple message and she saved the contact under 'Charles's Girlfriend', then backspaced it out ("How do you spell your name?" "M Y K A.") and just put 'Myka'.

Satisfied that she wouldn't be cut off from contact if she broke up with Charles, she said good night and headed home.

\--

In the middle of the night Myka's phone buzzed and she rubbed sleep out of her eyes as she read the message. Her heart skipped a beat. It was from Helena.

_I've got an answer for you, if you still want it..._

She bit her lip and typed out a reply.

 _Of course_.

A few moments later she had another message.

_If I am alone, no one can hurt me._

Now Myka's heart felt like it was breaking.

_If you are alone, you're hurting yourself._

She hoped that didn't make Helena angry.

_Better the devil I know..._

Myka ached to hug her. Or somehow do something to free her from the prison she kept herself in.

_Just in case you were wondering, I haven't slept with your brother._

Why did she hit 'send' instead of 'X'?

_I wasn't wondering. But thank you for the middle-of-the-night overshare._

Myka laughed. Mostly at Helena's wit, but a little at herself for acting like an adolescent.

 _Sorry_.

She was girlishly giddy that Helena had texted her at all.

_Good night._

_Night._

Helena locked her phone and set it on her nightstand, sighing as she rolled over and closed her eyes. It would do no good to continue this quasi-friendship with Charles's girl. Why did Myka have to be so persistent? Why did Myka have to be so easy to talk to? Why did Myka have to take her side of things when it was the last thing she wanted? Why did Myka have to be so breathtakingly, mind-numbingly beautiful? And why did she have to feel a pang of shameful guilt at thinking so? Sometimes she just didn't appreciate life's sense of irony.


	4. Chapter 4

Helena hadn't been sleeping long when the shrill sound of an emergency call came blaring to life on her nightstand. She was wide awake in an instant, phone to her ear. "Yes?"

"We have a problem at the warehouse."

"Which is?"

"A bunch of merch broken."

"Broken? Not stolen?"

"No, just broken."

That meant one thing: it wasn't about the merchandise or about making a profit without doing the work of a legit heist. It was about what had happened with geekboy and Marty. She knew Marty would have nothing to do with it, so the perpetrator was obiously geekboy. Perhaps he and some pre-pubescent friends.

With a frustrated growl she rolled out of bed and went about the process of making herself presentable. It was too damn early for this shit.

\--

The floor was littered with glass from hundreds of broken television screens. "Fucking hell," she said upon being greeted with the sight. "Did they have to break every single bloody one?"

After looking around the entire warehouse with a proverbial fine-toothed comb, she put on gloves and carefully picked up one of the shards of glass.

"Clean this up," she barked at her associates, striding out of the warehouse and to her car, tossing the piece of glass onto the passenger's seat. She'd slit Chad's throat with that. Yes, she knew his name.

\--

"I don't care what you have to do, just get me the information I--" A knock at the door pulled her focus and she frowned into the phone. "Hang on a second, Trey."

Moving into the living room, she squinted when parting the drapes let in too much sunlight at once. She couldn't see who it was with that glare, so she just opened the door, one hand holding her phone and the other gripping her gun, which was currently in her waistband at her back. Her arm fell to her side when she saw it was Myka.

"Hey," Myka said. "Can I come in?"

"Trey, just get me what I asked for and call me back when you have it." She hung up and opened the screen for Myka. "To what do I owe the interruption?"

"I think the phrase is 'to what do I owe the pleasure?'," Myka smirked.

"Oh, did I get it wrong? Pardon me, darling," Helena said with false contrition.

"I came to break up with Charles," Myka suddenly blurted out with no segue.

Helena blinked, her heart hammering at the news. "He's not here," she said, "which I was glad of until this very moment. Now I wish him here so you could break him into pieces."

Myka shut the door behind her, trying not to find it awkward that she was alone in the house with Helena, a woman she was fascinated by and whose brother she was about to stop dating. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Aren't you clever? What gave it away, my duffel bag or my antsyness?"

"The duffel bag combined with the end of your phone call," Myka said without missing a beat. "Is everything okay?"

"Marvelous, darling," Helena said flippantly. "Break-in at my warehouse."

"I love warehouses," Myka gushed.

Helena blinked. "What's to love about a warehouse?"

"Oh my God, so many things," Myka said in wonder. "Open floor plan, infinite storage space, echo-y walls... and usually they house some of the most interesting things in the world."

"You're describing museums."

"No," Myka said, her eyes alight with passion. "I'm talking about the most interesting things in the world that are not on display. Hidden treasures, so to speak."

"I believe this is what the younger generation would deem 'geeking out'," Helena said, arching a perfect eyebrow.

"Are you making fun of me because I prefer artifacts to AKs?"

"No," Helena said, one corner of her mouth quirking up. "Because you prefer fossils to flesh."

"I don't," Myka laughed. "Nice turn of phrase, though."

Helena's phone rang. "Yes?"

Myka watched Helena listen to whoever was on the other end of the line. She hooked her thumbs in her pockets to have something to do with her hands.

"Right," Helena said and hung up. She looked at Myka as she tucked her phone into her pants pocket. "Got to go, darling."

Myka's breath-to-second ratio shortened. "Alone?"

"As is customary when I haven't invited anyone else along, don't you think?"

"But you're going to do something dangerous, aren't you?"

"This is becoming uncomfortable," Helena said, eyes narrowing. "I don't need a babysitter."

Myka fought the urge to shove her. "No, but you might need an extra gun," she offered. "Extra set of eyes."

"I am not putting you in the middle of my petty feud," Helena scoffed.

"I'm sure you're on a time crunch if you want the information you got to be accurate, and standing here arguing with me is wasting valuable minutes..."

"You're right. I should knock you out and leave you here."

"You can try."

"Jesus Christ," Helena muttered. She saw no way out of the situation unless she really did want to knock Myka out and leave her.

"Give me a gun," Myka said, holding out her hand.

"Have you ever shot a gun?" Helena asked, handing over a simple 9 mm.

Myka made sure the safety was off, then cocked it and pointed it at Helena's forehead. "I'll leave you guessing on that one."

Helena was rocked with the sudden urge to throw Myka over her shoulder and carry her to the car, so she cleared her throat and locked the front door, then walked brusquely through the kitchen and out the back.

Myka sensed a shift in the air and uncocked the weapon, following Helena through the kitchen and out to the car. She carefully threw a jagged piece of glass into the back seat, then got in silently and buckled her seatbelt.

Helena revved the engine and thrust the gear shift with a little too much force than necessary, then took off, tires squealing against the pavement.

She navigated the city streets easily and it was only about five minutes before they pulled up in front of a seedy dive bar called Chuck's.

"Stay in the car," Helena instructed, getting out and handing the keys to Myka.

"No," Myka said, challenging Helena to object as she exited the vehicle and tucked the 9 into the front of her pants. She quickly stuffed the keys into her pocket.

"I'm going to take back my phone number," Helena hissed, moving ahead of Myka into the bar.

Myka grinned and shook her head. Of course Helena would threaten the impossible.

Chad was three sheets to the wind, sitting at the bar with a handful of buddies. Likely the buddies who'd helped him vandalize her warehouse. Helena stepped up to him quietly and pressed the muzzle of her gun into his lower back, right up against his L3 vertebra. "You think it's funny to smash my merchandise?" she said low enough not to be overheard.

"I don't know about funny," he slurred. "Satisfying, though." He threw an elbow behind him, right into her chest.

She grunted softly but grabbed his elbow, spinning him around. "I _will_ kill you, Chad," she said quietly. "It's not my first choice, but please don't make the mistake of thinking I won't."

"What do you want?" he said irritatedly.

Whatever she was going to say she wanted was preempted by a hail of bullets raining through the glass windows of the bar.

Everyone in the place hit the floor, and while they were ducking, Chad waited until Helena was shielding her face from the glass and took a fierce slash with his knife across her back, from shoulder to hip.

It would have done nothing if she was wearing her leather jacket, but that was in the bathroom trash at home. Her silk blouse left her unprotected and she felt the blade slice her skin, fighting disbelief at his audacity. They were being shot at and he dared to continue their altercation? She cried out in surprise, which caught Myka's attention.

Eyes wide, Myka crawled over and slammed the butt of her gun into the back of Chad's head, then hissed at Helena. "Come on." She grabbed a table and flipped it on its side for cover so they could crawl to the back door. She forced herself not to freak out when she saw the trail of blood Helena was leaving. She shrugged her jacket off as she crawled and when they were safely behind the wall leading to the bathroom, she wrapped it around Helena. "Can you walk to the car?"

"I can fucking run to the car," Helena said under her breath. "But don't think you're driving."

"I have the keys," Myka reminded her. "You don't have a choice. Now shut the fuck up and pay attention."

Helena smirked as they got to their feet and Myka peeked out the back door, making sure they had a clear line to the car. Thankfully whoever had shot up the place had moved on and were nowhere to be seen.

"So I'm assuming the hospital is out of the question?" Myka guessed as she started the car and moved the seat back a little. She was taller than Helena.

"If you go anywhere near a hospital I'll gut you where you sit."

"How many times have you had to reupholster this leather?"

"Due to intestinal fluid?"

"Due to anything."

"Five."

"Jesus."

\--

Ten minutes later they were back at Helena's and Myka was forcing her upstairs to the bedroom.

"Hey, hands off," Helena frowned, twisting away from the touch. "I'm going."

"How are you so casual about getting slashed in the back?" Myka asked, brows furrowed. "All right, take your shirt off," she added when they got to Helena's bedroom.

"Well isn't this different than the last time?" Helena quirked a brow.

"Take your damn shirt off and lay on your stomach," Myka said, not thrilled at the teasing. She was actually worried. Obviously it wasn't deep enough to damage any muscles or anything since Helena was fine, but she was worried about the amount of blood she could lose and of course the possibility of infection. Who knew where that fuckwad's knife had been?

"My stomach?" Helena asked, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding it off over her shoulders and down her arms. She got rid of the bra as well and climbed onto her stomach on the bed. "Do you think I haven't done this before? Did you think I'd lie on my back?"

Myka ignored her in favor of gathering towels and gauze and disinfectant. She grabbed the bottle this time - the wipes wouldn't be enough. She sat on the edge of the bed after getting a towel wet and carefully started to wipe away the blood.

Helena shifted once, then held perfectly still, her head resting on folded hands.

Myka worked in silence, and when it was clean, she poured alcohol on one of the gauze pads. "I'm about to disinfect," she announced to avoid any assault she might have received if she didn't give a warning. The feel of alcohol on an open wound could be jarring.

The only sound Helena made was a quiet hiss, and she didn't move at all.

Myka marveled at how she could be quiet and still through something like this, impressed at first but then a little sad. She must have been through so much.

When she finished disinfecting the part she could see, she cleared her throat. "It disappears under your pants," she said. "Can you undo your belt and your pants?"

Helena stiffened. "No."

"Helena, don't be ridiculous. His knife could carry tetanus for all we know."

"Then I'll get tetanus," Helena snapped. "I've had the shot, anyway."

"Helena," Myka said more gently. "What's wrong? Why won't you let me finish cleaning you up?"

The gentleness was even harder to deal with than irritation.

"Please," Myka said softly.

"I just don't want your pity," Helena said tightly.

"Then give me a chance not to pity you," Myka replied.

Helena fought the sting of tears as she reached beneath herself and undid her belt and her pants. Then she folded her hands back beneath her head and closed her eyes.

Nervous now, Myka carefully took down her pants and underwear and forced herself not to gasp at the scars on Helena's ass. She wanted to keep going and see how far down the scars went, but she only needed them down a little bit to get the rest of the wound. She cleaned it without speaking and taped some gauze across it before pulling Helena's clothes back into place. Only then when the scars were covered did she continue bandaging Helena's back.

Helena didn't dare even breathe as Myka lowered her clothes out of the way, and when she wasn't bombarded with questions and 'I'm sorries' she relaxed marginally.

When she was finished with everything she went to Helena's bathroom and washed her hands, then returned to the bed and sat down. "Now that your protective cover is back in place can I ask what happened? It was in school, right?"

Helena kept her eyes closed and her face turned toward the wall. "I got caught snogging the Headmaster's daughter. He didn't follow the rules when he punished me."

"Are they from a cane, then?"

"Yes."

"Did he at least get fired?"

Helena gave a mirthless laugh. "No."

"What happened to his daughter?"

Helena's breath caught. "He made her watch him do that to me and then sent her to a sanitarium," she said, her voice unexpectedly shaky. She hadn't thought about that in a very long time.

Myka hesitantly reached for Helena's arm, laying a comforting hand there.

Helena went completely rigid. "Don't..."

"I know you constantly push people away to avoid getting hurt," Myka said quietly, keeping her hand where it was. "I like being the one person you don't. So don't push me away, Helena. I'm here, whatever that means to you. I'm here, and I'm not running away just because your demons are showing."

Helena gave a choked sob at the unexpected sentiment, and that was all Myka needed. She kicked her shoes off and laid on the bed, pulling Helena fully into her arms, careful of her wounded back. She let the incredibly tough and resilient woman cry against her shoulder, stroking her fingers through Helena's hair.

"What are you doing to me?" Helena whispered, turning slightly onto her side and nervously returning the embrace, shaking as she let her left arm drape over Myka's side, trembling fingers pressing into the other woman's back.

"Letting you be yourself," Myka whispered back, holding her while she cried. She had a feeling Helena had not cried in a very, very long time. Perhaps not since leaving the boarding school. She had a feeling that hardened shell formed over those transformative years and was fully in place by the time she boarded a plane to the US. That every horrible, unfair thing that had ever happened to Helena had thus far gone unmourned.

"Why?" Helena asked several minutes later when her tears had slowed almost to a stop. She had cried for Giselle, for never having the nerve to look her up and see what had become of her. She cried for the loss of her family at such a young age; at being cast out for a reason she had no control over. She cried because even now when she was letting him live here with her for free, to help him, Charles still didn't accept her for who she was. But Myka did. "Why?" she asked again.

"Because you're incredible," Myka said simply.

"I'm not," Helena said. "I'm a thug who shakes people down and distributes drugs for a living."

"There are worse things to be," Myka shrugged. "You shake down assholes and idiots and you distribute drugs to people who buy them and would buy them somewhere else if you didn't. That's not so terrible, Helena."

"I've been trying to justify my lifestyle for years and you do it effortlessly with one sentence," Helena said, cracking somewhat of a smile. "Oh, and thank you. For fixing me up," she said, starting to push herself up.

"Helena," Myka shook her head. "You're retreating. Lay down, please. If you want to be alone, I'll go. You need to rest."

Helena relented and lay back down. "I'm not used to being this close to anyone. Well, without bullets flying anyway."

"It's fine, I can go," Myka said. "As long as you're okay."

"I'm _fine_ ," Helena insisted.

"Try again," Myka smirked.

Helena sighed. "My back hurts like a son of a bitch, but I've dealt with much worse. I'll rest, and I'll be okay. Does that meet your approval?"

"Yes," Myka laughed, sliding out of bed and kissing Helena's temple before she could think about what she was doing. She froze. Maybe Helena wouldn't notice.

Helena's mouth dropped open, no sound coming out, but she couldn't help the smoldering in her breath as she exhaled. Myka would probably be able to feel the heat.

Helena obviously noticed. Time to save yourself from drowning, Myka. "So while I've got you humble and compliant, I intend to force you to agree to go out with me and my friends this weekend. There's this bowling tournament they signed me up for without asking, and I couldn't get out of it because the proceeds go to charity, so I need someone much cooler than my geeky friends to show up with me."

Helena laughed, the sudden heat and resulting awkwardness forgotten. "No."

"I thought you'd say that. But can you really say no to this face?" she asked, pulling out her cell phone and bringing up a picture of the event's promo, featuring a small, starving child.

"I hate children," Helena lied.

"I'll pick you up Friday at eight," Myka said, beaming, and turned around and left.

Helena let out a long, shaky breath and rolled back onto her stomach. What the hell was she doing? She knew as well as Myka did that she'd be ready on Friday at eight.


	5. Chapter 5

When Friday morning rolled around, Helena texted Myka.

_I don't actually have to bowl, do I?_

She got a response quickly.

_Of course you do._

_But my back hurts._

_Liar! See you at eight. Wear a dress._

_Why, so you can look up my skirt? I will not wear a dress._

Myka blushed at the reply.

_Then wear slacks, it's a fancy event._

Helena's jaw dropped, her own cheeks coloring.

_You were serious?_

_Yes, it's a fundraiser. I'll be in a dress. But really, you can wear whatever you want._

\--

Helena wore a dress. Grudgingly. She chose a deep green number with a flowy, low-cut neckline and a hem that reached about mid thigh - long enough to cover her scars. The last time she'd worn a dress was... she couldn't actually remember. Highly impractical during hand-to-hand combat, which she never really set out to engage in but which frequently ended up being required of her.

She even went so far as to wear high heels and put in a pair of dangly diamond earrings. If she was going to wear a dress, she might as well go all the way, and hopefully impress Myka's friends, since that's why she had been invited in the first place.

She threw her hair up on top of her head in messy-chic style, letting some curls dangle around her face, then applied business casual makeup.

It was just before eight when she heard a knock at the door.

When Helena answered the door, Myka dropped her purse. "Shit," she cursed, bending down quickly to pick it up. "Are you ready to go?" she asked hurriedly to mask her embarrassment. "You look..." She couldn't find the right word so she just shook her head in amazement and turned away to hide her face.

Helena wasn't sure what to make of that reaction but she was glad for it so that Myka missed the way her eyes drank in everything. Myka was in a short black dress. Really short. With spaghetti straps and a little bit of lace thrown here and there in random spots so you could see the skin underneath. "Should I go change?" she asked, indicating the stairs over her shoulder.

Myka spun back to face her, in control once more. "Only if you want me to gut you where you stand," she threatened. "You look enchanting."

Enchanting? That was a word never used on her before. She decided she liked it as she followed Myka to her car. "I'm shit at bowling, just so you're aware," she said as Myka pulled out of the driveway.

"And I broke up with Charlie, just so you're aware," Myka said, unable to wait any longer to tell her.

"Two very different subjects, but equally important," Helena smirked.

"It's fine, you don't have to be good at it, you just have to do it," Myka said with a shrug. She wasn't sure what she had wanted Helena's reaction to be, but overly casual should not have surprised her. Helena did not wear her heart on her sleeve.

Helena somehow sensed Myka's disappointment and searched for something acceptable to say. "He didn't deserve you," she finally ventured.

That made Myka smile. "No?"

"No. He's a pompous jackass and you're far too good for him."

"I broke up with him because of you, you know that, right?" Myka asked.

The car suddenly sucked all the air out of her lungs and left Helena winded, struggling to think straight. "What?"

Myka just shrugged. "He doesn't deserve you, either," she said, all the explanation she was willing to give.

Helena didn't know what to say to that, so she turned to look out the window, trying to calm her racing pulse.

The rest of the drive was silent and when Myka parked at the bowling alley, they both got out of the car and headed inside.

Myka caught up to Helena, who was walking ahead of her, and slid an arm into hers. "Walk with me, Jesus," she said, rolling her eyes. "Some date you are."

"Oh, so it's a date now, and you've only told me as we're entering the building so I can't run away?"

"Of course. Have you met yourself? You run away at 'hello'."

Helena laughed, the sound foreign to her own ears, and patted Myka's hand where it rested on her forearm. "You do have me pegged."

Myka laughed with her and forged ahead. "Come on, I think we have lane number eleven." She led her guest over and she was correct; Pete and Claudia were dressed to the nines, both in tuxes (Claudia refused to adhere to gender norms even though she was a straight feminine biological female).

When Pete saw the woman on Myka's arm, his jaw clenched, at the exact moment Helena's did the same.

"Excuse us," Pete said, dragging Myka a few feet away and whispering harshly. "Do you know who that _is_?"

Myka glanced back at Helena with a wink and turned to Pete. "Someone I really like and with whom if you fuck things up I'll kill you?"

"Myka, that's Helena Wells!" Pete said frantically. "She's been involved in over a dozen inquiries!"

"Keep work out of social gatherings," Myka chided him, shaking off his hold and returning to Helena. "Sorry. I have to carry the social graces for my entire group of friends."

"You might have mentioned a DEA agent would be attending," Helena said dryly.

"I didn't know you'd know each other," Myka defended herself.

"This is going to be a lovely night."

"Is that Myka's date?" Claudia whispered to Pete.

"I hope they're just friends," Pete scowled. "That woman is going to end up behind bars sooner or later."

Claudia slapped him. "Hater."

"Ow," Pete sulked. "I'm just telling it like it is."

"Well tell it differently. Don't put hater energy in Myka's direction."

"Fine, I take it back. Her criminal empire will thrive and she'll never get caught. Happy?"

"Much!" She sauntered over to Myka and friend. "Introductions," she said, nudging Myka.

"Hey Claud," Myka said, giving her a careful side hug, not wanting to mess up the starched tux. "This is Helena. Helena, this is my friend Claudia."

Helena extended a hand and shook Claudia's delicately. "Pleasure," she said with a smile.

"Uh... yeah," Claudia agreed, taken aback at the hot-ass accent. "So how do you know Myka?"

"I'll let her tell you that little gem," Helena said conspiratorially, not wanting to field that question with a ten-foot pole. She took a glass of champagne from a passing server and brought it to her lips.

"A few years ago we met in a bar and she fingered me on a pool table, then never called," Myka said with a shrug.

Helena wore the champagne.

"Nah. I was dating her brother until very recently and I forced her to become my friend." Myka wasn't sure why she said the other thing... maybe just to let Helena know it was okay to be who she was and that her friends wouldn't judge. Maybe to let Helena know that her friends wouldn't think twice about them having met in a bar and fucked on a pool table because being gay wasn't something you had to hide in her circle of people.

"Oh my God, I was so excited about your first answer, why couldn't you have let me keep thinking that?" Claudia raved.

Myka chuckled and chanced a glance at Helena, who was busy trying to collect herself and wipe the champagne from her dress.

"Excuse me," Helena said with a grim smile, setting down her glass and escaping to the restroom.

Myka's shoulders slumped. "I was hoping she'd loosen up. All she's ever been is judged for being who she is."

"Give her time," Claudia said consolingly.

"Yeah," Myka said, starting to sit down.

"Not right now! I meant in general! Right now go after her you geek!"

Myka groaned at herself and walked briskly to the bathroom after Helena. She found her in front of the sinks, scrubbing her dress with a wet paper towel. "I'm sorry," she said, offering an apologetic smile.

"For what?" Helena asked, avoiding the issue as always.

"For making a bad joke," Myka ignored the fact that Helena was ignoring the issue. "I just wanted you to know that the people I keep company with aren't going to judge you. Or me. Or anyone."

"No?" Helena asked, tossing the useless paper towel into the trash. "Well next time you want to be clever, leave me out of it, would you kindly?" She pushed past Myka intending to leave, but Myka grabbed her elbow. "You do not want to do that," she said darkly.

"Please don't leave. I'm sorry. Truly." When Helena at least paused, she continued. "I thought you'd laugh. And I--" she stepped closer, her hand going from Helena's arm to the small of her back, mindful of the bandages she knew were under the dress. "I really don't want you to go."

Helena's eyelashes fluttered at the gentle touch on her back. Myka's voice was like a siren's song calling her to the depths, to near-certain death. She had to get them out of this restroom unscathed. "Fine, fine," she said dismissively, stepping out of reach of the touch she so desperately wanted to keep feeling. "Come on, we're probably missing the opening pitch."

Myka's grin was radiant. "That's baseball," she said, following Helena out of the bathroom.

"American sports are all the same."

\--

Claudia somewhat cornered Helena a few minutes after they started bowling. "You know... Myka has never brought another person out with us. It's always been just the three of us."

"Are you asking me to leave?" Helena raised an eyebrow.

"Oh my God!" Claudia said, giving her a long-suffering eye roll. "Here's the point..." she held up her left forefinger. "And here's you." She held up her right forefinger far away from the left. "I know she freaked you out with what she said, but what I'm trying to tell you is that to those of us who've known her for a really long time, it's obvious you're important to her."

Helena didn't know how to respond to that and ended up staring at her hands which she'd placed in her lap. Saved by the bell, it was her turn to bowl.

\--

Helena really was shit at bowling, like she'd said, and she nearly gagged every time she had to put her fingers into the holes, imagining the plethora of germs awaiting. In the third frame she finally hit a pin, and she heard Myka cheering behind her. The second ball went back into the gutter, where it was obviously so comfortable whenever it was her turn. "I got one," she said with a shrug upon returning to the crowd. "That's one better than the last two times."

Myka hugged her and then ran to take her own turn.

Helena flushed and quickly sat.

Claudia sat next to her, grinning. "If that's what you look like after a hug I can't wait to see what you look like after a kiss."

"I don't make a habit of kissing straight girls," Helena tutted.

"Who crushed your gay-dar?" Claudia asked, surprised, staring at Myka and then back at Helena.

"She was dating my brother, remember?"

"Okay so who crushed your bi-dar?" Claudia amended. "Myka's no square."

"I gathered at least that much," Helena chuckled. She wanted to add 'when she came on a little payback mission with me' but wisely didn't.

"Oops... you'd better cheer. She just got a spare," Claudia said, bouncing up to go take her turn.

"Hey," Myka said, sliding into the seat beside Helena. "I hope Claudia's not torturing you too much. She's very... outspoken?"

"Outspoken," Helena said, nodding as if she were impressed with the description. "You don't say."

"Does that mean she's torturing you?" Myka asked with a sigh.

"No, no," Helena chuckled, holding up her hands. "She's lovely."

What did Helena mean, _lovely_?

"Agent Lattimer, on the other hand--"

"Pete," Myka interrupted. "Don't let him hear Agent Lattimer, I beg you. He'll act the part and if you really want to be tortured, that's how to accomplish it."

" _Pete_ has been intermittently giving me dirty looks when he thinks I can't see him."

"Yeah well don't take it personally."

"How else should I take it?"

"Peterally. It's just how he is."

"You're lying but that's very sweet of you," Helena said with a wistful smile.

"Yeah, he said you've come up in over a dozen inquiries," Myka said, defeated. "I told him to leave work out of social gatherings but I don't think he can."

"I know the feeling," Helena sighed. "I never leave home without packing, even for something like this." She gestured around them.

Myka stared at her, eyes raking over her dress-clad form. "Where's your gun?" she asked. "Do I even want to know?"

Helena threw her head back and laughed. "Strapped to my thigh, darling."

"You have an amazing laugh," Myka said, resisting the urge to reach out and tuck an errant curl behind Helena's ear.

"Oh? You are one of very few people who have actually heard the genuine article."

"No complaints here," Myka said, touched at the revelation.

"It's your turn, Wells," Pete interrupted gruffly.

Helena narrowed her eyes and stood without a word, moving past him to pick up her bowling ball.

"Pete, you're being an asshole," Claudia spoke up from her seat.

"I am not," Pete grumped.

"You are, actually," Myka agreed with Claudia.

"She's a Goddamn criminal, Myka," he said in hushed tones.

"I don't care if she robbed a bank and shot three people before this fundraiser, she is my guest and if you don't start being nice to her I will take her and leave."

Claudia hid a smirk behind a cough.

Helena caught the tail end of the conversation as she finished throwing her second gutter ball and headed back to the group. "Is my attendance causing a row?" she asked, looking between Myka and Pete.

Myka put her hands on her hips and stared at Pete.

Realizing he was expected to answer in a way that would smooth things over, he tried not to sound as pissed off as he felt. "No..."

"Are you certain?" Helena asked further. "If you'd rather let starving children suffer than suffer my presence, I shall abstain from helping charity in order to preserve your manhood," she said pointedly, giving a small curtsey and walking away.

"I said no, didn't I?" Pete yelled. "Myka, it's your turn!"

Myka glared daggers at him and spun on her heel to go after Helena. She caught up quickly and slid her hand into the other woman's, interlacing their fingers. "Can I take you somewhere else instead?"

Helena jumped at the sudden contact, surprised. "You're going to leave your friends?" she asked, nonplussed.

"Pete's not acting like a friend and Claudia doesn't give a shit if I leave her hanging," Myka grinned. She noted with some satisfaction that Helena hadn't withdrawn her hand yet. "Also, what kind of a date would I be if I drove you here and didn't drive you home? Oh and most importantly I'd rather go somewhere else with you than stay here without you."

"Well," Helena began, squeezing Myka's hand in thanks for her explanation, "What did you have in mind?"

"We could go for a drink... a drive... a movie... food...?"

Helena shrugged. "This is your rodeo; I'm just along for the ride."

Myka laughed, but caught sight of a stripe of red on the back of Helena's dress. "Hey," she said with a frown. "What happened to your bandages?"

"They were making me itch."

"So you just took them off and didn't call me for new ones?"

Helena snorted. "In which universe do you think I would bother you for such a thing?"

"Helena, it's not a bother," Myka said seriously, stopping them so they could face each other for a minute. "It's important." She chewed her lip and at the intense look on Helena's face, thought she'd better lighten up the moment. "And obviously more important than that is preserving and extending the life of your dress, which has now been tainted by blood and will only last half as long with the amount of cleaning it will take to get out that stain."

Helena's eyebrows raised. "I can buy another dress," she said with a chuckle.

"Come on... I'll have to clean you up again before I rebandage it." She continued their journey toward the car, still pulling Helena by the hand.

"I'm quite clean, thank you very much."

"And deliberately missing the point," Myka added, unlocking the car and opening the passenger door for Helena with a flourish.

Helena got in, careful not to touch her back to Myka's interior. Bloodying her own car was one thing, but she didn't want to ruin Myka's. "Pete's not going to follow us back to the lair, is he?" she teased when Myka got in and got them going.

Myka chortled and checked the rearview, then the side mirrors before pulling out of the bowling alley's parking lot. "He'd better not."

"It's not as though he doesn't already know where I live," Helena sighed. "He's been there, like he said, over a dozen times."

"With no results, no wonder he's bent about it," Myka said with a smirk. "He doesn't like to lose cases."

"Yes, I'm sure it's very emasculating," Helena drawled.

"Heh."

\--

When they reached the house, Myka groaned to see Charles's car parked out front. "Can you sneak me upstairs? I don't want to deal with his whining."

"The Great and Powerful Myka wants to _avoid_ my little brother?" Helena asked, insanely amused.

"Yes," Myka said, parking her car behind Helena's in the driveway and shutting off the engine.

"All right, we'll go in the back door and take the stairs off the kitchen."

"Thank you," Myka grinned, following close behind Helena as if that would somehow shield her if Charles saw them.

This time Helena peeked in the window first, and finding the kitchen empty, she quietly unlocked the door and led Myka through the kitchen and up the back stairs.

Sighing with relief, Myka put her hand on Helena's shoulder. "I'll get what I need and meet you in your room."

"Aces," Helena said nonchalantly, heart jumping at the casual contact. She went into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Being in a dress presented a problem for this little re-bandaging escapade.

Myka showed up a few minutes later with gauze, disinfectant and tape. She realized the dress thing as soon as she saw Helena sitting on the bed looking unsure. She let the supplies tumble onto the bed and stood in front of Helena, taking her by the hand and pulling her to her feet. "Okay, turn around?" she requested, chewing the inside of her cheek.

Helena raised an eyebrow but turned. When she felt fingers at the hem of her dress, she balked. "Myka, I ca--"

"Shh," Myka tried to reassure her. "I don't bite very hard at all and my canines are so sharp they'll sink in like butter. You'll barely feel a thing," she teased.

Helena laughed and reached beneath her to remove her gun and thigh holster, then finally put her arms over her head, implying permission. She held her breath as Myka slowly removed her dress, leaving her in a pair of black lace panties and high heels. It felt surreal to stand like that in front of someone, and before her knees started shaking too much to hold her, she climbed face down on the bed and crossed her ankles.

Myka closed her eyes for a moment when she saw that Helena's scars went all the way down to the middle of her thighs, and she wanted to wring that Headmaster's bigoted neck. She took a slow breath, opened her eyes, and picked up the disinfectant and a gauze pad. "It doesn't look too bad, actually," she said. "It's healing, it's just seeping a little. There are only a few spots that actually still need to be bandaged."

"All right," Helena said, her face toward the wall.

The muscles in Helena's back rippled as Myka poured alcohol on the gauze and ran it over the wound from top to bottom. "How does it feel?"

"The pain is mostly gone," Helena answered, closing her eyes. Myka's fingers were so warm, burning trails wherever they touched her skin.

Myka applied two bandages. One over Helena's right shoulder blade and one just above her left hip. "I bet bowling is what split it open," she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Nonsense, I had a wonderful time. It's worth a little seepage," Helena said with a grin, finally turning her face in Myka's direction. "Thank you, Myka."

Myka brushed a few curls out of Helena's eyes and tucked them behind her friend's ear. "You're welcome," she said in a rush when she realized she hadn't answered. "Do you want me to wait outside so you can get dressed?"

"I have no desire to move right at this very moment," Helena said blissfully. "Perhaps in a few."

Myka grinned and nodded, remaining seated beside her on the bed.

The longer they sat in comfortable silence, the stronger Myka's urge became to touch Helena again. She ended up running a fingertip along the length of Helena's spine without the go ahead from her brain.

Helena gasped and curled her hands around the blankets under her head.

"Jesus. Sorry," Myka blurted out, snatching her hand back. "I'm sorry, I..."

"It's all right," Helena said, her voice strangled and throaty. "I was just surprised." Every nerve ending was on fire from that simple touch, her pulse rushing through her ears, heart thudding against her ribcage. It had been so long since she allowed anyone so close... her body was starved for affection along with her soul.

"Are you sure it's all right?" Myka asked, laying her hand on Helena's unlacerated shoulder blade. "You're so beautiful," she added in a whisper, fluttering her fingertips over those rippling muscles that impressed her so much.

Helena focused on remembering to breathe. In and out; in and out; steady.

"Helena," Myka whispered, her voice full of longing as she wrapped her fingers around Helena's left arm and gently urged her to roll onto her side.

Helena covered her breasts with her blanket and rolled onto her side facing Myka at the prompt. "Yes?"

Myka slid to her knees on the floor so she was eye level with Helena. "Helena," she said again, her eyes searching the eager but frightened dark ones in front of her. She darted her gaze to Helena's lips, then back. "I want..." she said, unable to finish the sentence.

Helena thought her heart was going to explode out of her chest it was beating so fast. She could feel sweat pricking the back of her neck. Myka was looking at her like she was about to kiss her.

"Can I kiss you?" Myka exhaled, the words barely audible, as if she hadn't spoken them at all, just breathed them into life.

"I'm a mess," Helena said, her eyes filling with tears. "My neuroses go so far down I can't even reach the bottom anymore... I'm not good for you," she said, one tear spilling over, then another.

"I don't hear you saying no," Myka murmured, drawing closer.

"I'm terrified," Helena confessed.

"Of what?" Myka asked softly.

"Of this... of getting close... of being gay," Helena said, her voice choked with tears. "My entire life I've spent hearing how wrong it is. How wrong I am for feeling it. I don't believe that, but a person can only take so much before the words start to internalize."

"You don't have to let me kiss you, Helena, and I won't walk away. But I won't stop wanting it, either. You make me feel crazy with how much I want it."

"And afterwards?" Helena asked. "When I'm falling apart? When the guilt gnaws at me until I push you away? Until I lash out at you in the worst ways a person can?"

Myka drew closer still, her mouth a breath away from Helena's, her words filling the infinitesmal space between them. "There won't be an afterwards," she whispered. "There will only always be now."

Helena whimpered, more tears falling, and she rested her forehead against Myka's. "God help me," she begged, allowing their lips to touch.

Myka gave the softest moan when their lips finally touched, weeks of pent-up emotions pouring themselves into the kiss. Helena was soft. So soft. And sweet. And the tears that dripped down her face mingled with her sweetness and Myka never wanted to be apart from her again.

A sound of long-buried passion tore its way up from Helena's throat and she kissed Myka harder, desperately, afraid that the moment their lips parted this would all have been a dream. If that were the case, she would no longer be able to bear reality. Myka had pried open doors that had been bolted shut after that fateful day in the Headmaster's study. The hinges creaked, alerting her with their old and rusty sounds, but Myka had gotten them open and stepped through.

Their lips parted, and Myka was still there. She was there, and she was real, and Helena cried.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Myka said, affectionately bringing one hand up to stroke Helena's cheek.

"I'm sorry," Helena said shakily. "I--"

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Myka stopped her from continuing to apologize. "You don't have to explain anything. Just be here with me and feel whatever you need to feel."

Helena feathered her fingertips over her lips, closing her eyes. "Why are you so amazing?" she breathed.

Myka pulled her close and held her. "I've wanted to be close to you like this since the moment I met you," she said with a mischievous grin. "When you were a total fucking cunt to me in the kitchen."

Helena let out a burst of uncontrolled laughter at that, burying her face in Myka's neck. "Fuck," she swore. "I _was_ an asshole, wasn't I?"

"Grade A," Myka agreed. "You've had me practically drooling over you ever since."

"How is it so easy for you?" Helena asked suddenly.

"Because I don't let anyone tell me who to be or how to feel. If they try, they just get my middle finger and I hit the eject button, and they're out of my life."

"And why can't I do that?"

"Psychologically speaking or sarcastically speaking?"

"Both?"

"Sarcastically speaking, because you're British. Psychologically speaking, probably because you're still seeking your parents' approval since it was withheld permanently from such a young age."

"Let's stick with sarcastically speaking, then."

"Are your parents gone?"

"Unfortunately not... they're in a retirement home out in the country."

"Do you know how badly that makes me want to drag you to visit them and kiss you right in front of them?"

"Their life support would malfunction!" Helena laughed.

"Win win," Myka said smugly.

"Thank you for making me feel okay," Helena said after a moment, looking at Myka fondly.

"I can do that any time you need," Myka replied, kissing her cheek, then her jaw, then the corner of her mouth.

Helena shuddered in Myka's arms, her pulse instantly racing, breath catching. When Myka's lips covered hers this time, she moaned softly and opened her mouth.

Gratefully surprised, Myka flicked her tongue out over Helena's front teeth. The answering noise she got made her clench all over. "Jesus Christ, you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen, met or kissed." She pulled back just enough to lick her way across Helena's lips, then pushed her tongue between them into Helena's warm, waiting mouth.

The hand that wasn't trapped beneath her body found purchase on Myka's upper arm and squeezed, fingertips digging in with bruising need. She couldn't stop whimpering and her panties were embarrassingly wet.

Myka's free hand crawled its way from Helena's cheek down to her side, stroking up and down once before her eyes sprung wide open and she snatched her hand back as if she'd been burned. "Fuck me, you need to get dressed right now or I won't be able to stop myself from moving this way too fast for you..." She had forgotten Helena was in nothing but lace panties and high heels.

Helena tried to pull away, tried to make herself get up and find something to wear, but what happened was neither. When she looked at Myka's blushing face, all she could do was whisper, "I'm wet."

Myka groaned and pressed her body fully against Helena's, her hand returning to Helena's flank, squeezing this time instead of stroking. "Fuck my life," she whispered back. "Do you have any idea how fucking wet you make _me_?"

"I'm sorry," Helena rasped, "I know you asked me to get dressed. I can't make myself move away from you, Myka. You have me unraveled."

"What do you want?" Myka asked gently. "I'll do whatever you want, whatever you need."

"What do _you_ want?" Helena turned the question back on her.

"I want to make you scream," Myka exhaled, eyelids fluttering down to hide blown pupils. "I want to make you forget everything bad that's ever happened to you and make you feel so good you just... scream."

"Never have I had such a tempting offer," Helena said quietly, pressing herself further against Myka, with only the blanket and a little bit of soaking wet lace between them. "You make it so easy to want more. To want everything."

"Do you?" Myka asked. "Want everything?"

Helena's response was sudden and visceral. She covered Myka's hand with her own and forced it down their bodies, to the waistband of her panties, then inside. "Feel the answer," she whispered.

Myka gasped at the slick heat suddenly enveloping her fingers, clenching her thighs against the flood it renewed in her own panties, her mouth going to Helena's and latching on. She kissed her hard, fierce, deep, keeping her hand very still, and when she pulled back from the kiss, her eyes were on fire. "Can I--"

"Yes," Helena interrupted in a quiet hiss, rolling onto her back and arching into Myka's hand. "Please."

Myka instantly slipped a finger inside, watching Helena's face carefully, a mewl clawing its way out at the delicious tightness she encountered. She played with the resistance, never forcing it away, simply coaxing her to loosen up.

Helena drew in ragged breaths, her hands shooting up to grab the slats of the headboard behind her as she bucked her hips, her long-denied body seeking more. "Please," she panted, tossing her head to one side, then the other as Myka's finger slid in and out, working her into a frenzy.

"I know," Myka soothed her. "It's okay. I'll get you there, I promise..." She pushed her finger in a little deeper, stroking forward on the way out, then sliding easily back in. Her lips found Helena's ribcage and she kissed her way across it, up toward her breasts, and as she closed her mouth around a rock-hard nipple, she rubbed circles over Helena's pulsing clit with her thumb, hard and fast.

Helena whimpered and pled with her, half incoherent, unable to hold her hips still. It just felt so good, and she felt so connected, so cared for, so sexy and wanted and accepted. She felt her climax working its way outward from the point of Myka's touch, and after a few long torturous moments of hovering on the edge, she crashed over with a feral scream.

Myka groaned, a surge of affection and power slashing through her, and she kept rubbing until Helena clamped her thighs shut and angled her hips away. At that indicator, she carefully slid her finger out and pulled the shaking woman into her arms again, dropping slow, sweet little kisses all over her face.

When Helena finally came back to herself, a wave of shame washed over her and she tried to turn away.

Myka was having none of it. "Don't you dare," she whispered, refusing to let up on her hold. She hugged Helena tight, one hand winding into her hair and lightly pulling. "I promised you there'd only ever be a now, and that's where we're staying. Understand? You have nothing to be ashamed of and I won't let you retreat into yourself again."

"I'm sorry," Helena said, now ashamed for trying to turn away. "You just made me feel transcendental and I'm behaving like a child. I'm just... why is it so hard for me to accept myself? I know who I am and what I want... which is you, by the way, if that wasn't obvious, but there's this piece of my brain that's screaming at me to run. That it could never work out, that I can never be happy, that you'll end up hurting me, that I don't deserve you, that I need to at least try to make it work with a man before I give up on the life my parents demanded for me..."

A little shocked at the litany of doubts that came pouring out all at once, Myka tried to sort out how best to respond. Finally she gave a small smile and kissed Helena's forehead. "I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"Would your mother try to make it work with a woman before she decided to be who she really was?"

"Bollocks, no."

"Then why should you try to make it work with a man before deciding to be who you really are?"

That was a good question, and one that Helena didn't have an answer to. "I don't know," she admitted. "Why are you such an evil genius?"

Myka smiled, glad that she had talked Helena down, at least for the moment. She didn't want to get kicked out after sharing something so magical to her. "I don't know... I've always been able to think outside the box."

"Well thank you, for once again making me feel okay," Helena said softly, resting her forehead on Myka's shoulder.

When Helena's hand started to wander, Myka grabbed her wrist. "Oh no," she said, smirking and shaking her head. "We're not doing that until I can be sure you won't kick me out after. That would break me." At the wounded look on Helena's face, she brought her still-slick finger to her mouth and popped it inside, swirling her tongue around it with a decadent expression and a sinful moan.

Helena's look went from wounded to scandalized to incendiary. "How can you tell me no and then do that?" she asked, her voice choked and cracking several times.

"You looked hurt. I needed a quick fix to give me time to figure out how to make it better."

"And what did you come up with?"

"Nothing. You interrupted and I didn't have time to think." Myka smirked.

"HG, your phone's ringing!" they both heard shouted up from downstairs.

"My phone?" Helena asked Myka, eyes wide. "Why is it downstairs?"

"You must have dropped it on the way in... fuck."

"Jesus Christ! Can you grab me something to wear so I can get down there before he gets impatient and brings it up here?"

Myka scrambled off the bed and grabbed the first shirt she could reach from the closet, throwing it at Helena who started putting it on as she frantically searched for pants. "Where are your pants?" In the moment she couldn't remember where Helena kept them.

"In my bureau!" Helena hissed, eyes wider.

Myka threw open drawer after drawer until she found them, and was grabbing a pair when the door burst open.

"What the fuck, HG, didn't you hear m--" He froze when he saw his sister in bed with the blankets over her lower half and Myka in the middle of the room holding a pair of jeans.

Helena's face was ashen. "Charles, I--" she ducked her head to avoid her flying phone, which dented the wall behind her.

"Hey!" Myka shouted at him, throwing the pants to Helena. "Get out!"

He was seething. She could practically see smoke coming out of his ears like he was a cartoon.

"This is why you broke up with me? So you could fuck my sister?"

"Yes," Myka snapped. "But to be fair, once I got to know you I thought you were a horrible person and would have broken up with you even if I wasn't interested in her."

"I should've known you were a fucking dyke," he snarled.

"Charles, please don't say that," Helena started.

"Shut the fuck up," Charles yelled at her. "I should never have moved in here! Mom and dad were right about you, you ruin everything!"

Helena watched in equal parts horror and glee as Myka squared off and punched him so hard in the nose that blood spurted everywhere and he stumbled backwards and fell.

"Helena is fucking amazing, Charlie," she said, standing over him, pressing the heel of her shoe into his groin and watching him twitch as he held his bloody nose. "And you are a pathetic, sniveling, jealous mama's boy that can't handle the fact that his sister is twice the man he'll ever be, in all the ways that count."

Helena was staring, slack-jawed, experiencing a bit of hero worship.

"Ow, you're going to rip them off!" Charles howled as she stepped on him harder.

"It would only be an improvement," Myka said with sadistic fervor. "You've got nowhere to go but up." Finally she relented and lifted her shoe from his groin. "Now get. The fuck. Out."

Practically crying, he scrabbled backwards and out the door as Myka slammed it.

"I can't believe that just happened," Helena said, still staring at Myka, astounded.

"That is how you deal with people like him," Myka growled. "You don't beg them for forgiveness."

Helena did rather think it was nice for him to end up being the one to leave crying rather than her, for once.

"Please put your pants on; we're going for a drive to the country."

"I don't think that's a wise idea," Helena said, though she did feel slightly emboldened by Myka's forceful attitude. "I haven't seen them since I was twelve and they won't want to see me, anyway."

"They won't have a choice," Myka said simply. "This ends now. They have no right to make you suffer for being who you are. You're incredible and this ends now. Tonight."

"I don't think you'll get the result you're looking for," Helena said sadly, but she took her shoes off, put the jeans on, then put her shoes back on. "But... I never thought I'd see the day Charles scampered off like a wounded animal, either." She stepped up to the fuming Myka and rested her hands on Myka's forearms. "You are a very powerful force of nature. I'm lucky to have you."

Some of the blood-boiling rage started to slip away at the gentle touch and the heartfelt words, and Myka sighed. "If you don't want to go, we won't go."

"I don't want to go," Helena admitted. "But you're right. This needs to end, and if I wait any longer they'll likely be gone. I may lose my bladder in terror, but I'll go."

Myka grinned and hugged her. "Bring a gun."

"I always do, darling." She grabbed the gun from her thigh holster on the nightstand and shoved it into the back of her pants.

On their way out, Charles was in the kitchen and he turned murderous eyes on his sister. "I hate you, HG. I'm moving out and you'll never see me again. I hate you!"

Myka reached over and squeezed her hand, and Helena drew strength from it. For the first time in her life, she stood up to a member of her family. Like, stood up for something important, when it counted. She'd told Charles off plenty of times, but never about this. She didn't stop, which she knew he thought she would. "Fuck you, Charles," she said, flipping him off over her shoulder as she walked out the back door.

Myka laughed at his stunned expression, following Helena out.

\--

"Well that was rather exhilarating," Helena exclaimed as they got into Myka's car. It was parked behind hers. "I'll have to give you directions."

"That was fucking sick," Myka said, still laughing as she started the engine. "Just give me the address and I'll use the GPS on my phone."

"I don't know the address, but you can look it up by name, yes?"

"Usually, yeah."

"It's called Grandview Terrace Meadows."

Myka typed that in to her maps app and nodded. "Yep. Got it." She hit 'directions', then 'go' and put her phone down so she could see it.

Helena jumped as the GPS blared to life. "Christ, that's loud."

"I have to be able to hear it over the music."

"What music?"

"Well I turned it off when I knew you were getting in the car earlier."

"Ah. Always trying to pry conversation out of me."

"Yes."

"I admit you've been more successful at it than I would originally have liked," Helena said after a minute.

"Kudos to me," Myka chuckled.

"Indeed. Your humility is inspiring."

That made Myka genuinely laugh, and she took a left as the GPS screamed at her to do so.


	7. Chapter Seven

The atmosphere in the car clouded over as they reached the retirement home. Myka sat with the car running for a moment, just letting Helena gather herself and in case she changed her mind.

"You won't leave the room, will you?" Helena suddenly asked, hating how small and fragile her voice sounded.

"Not for a second, unless you expressly ask me to," Myka shook her head.

"There's no chance of that," Helena snorted. "All right... let us proceed with the march of death."

"Maybe we could rename it to the march of... liberation, or something less death-y," Myka suggested.

Helena sighed and got out of the car.

Myka shut the engine off and got out, locking the doors and catching up to Helena. "Can I hold your hand?"

Helena gave a terse nod, words having fled her capabilities for the moment.

Myka slid her hand into Helena's, thumb sliding gently back and forth over Helena's palm as they walked.

"You may have to carry me as well," Helena said as her steps faltered and she stopped walking halfway to the door. "What if they refuse to see me?"

Myka stepped in front of her and looked her in the eyes. "You are a badass bitch. Don't forget that," she offered, tucking an errant curl behind Helena's ear - the same one she had wrangled into submission earlier that night in bed. "And if they try to refuse, I will cut power to their life support machines until they change their minds."

That got a little chortle out of Helena. "They're not literally on life support," she admitted.

"Well then I'll get more creative," Myka said.

Helena abhorred feeling weak, so she nodded and turned, continuing the trek. This time she didn't stop, and when she reached the door, she pushed it open and stepped inside. The first thing that caught her attention was the hospital-like smell, and she turned to Myka and made a face. "Oh."

Myka made the same face but quickly schooled her expression when an orderly came out to greet them.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"We're here to see Joseph and Sarah Wells," Helena spoke up after clearing her throat.

The orderly glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Let me see if they're still awake. It is late..."

It was almost eleven-thirty. Helena hadn't really thought about that and apparently neither had Myka. "Oh. All right. Thank you," she said.

The woman disappeared and returned a few moments later with a smile. "They're just watching some television. Right this way."

Helena raised her eyebrows when she wasn't asked for her identity, but didn't complain. She squeezed Myka's hand for support as they followed the orderly down one hallway, turned the corner, and then stopped in front of room 42.

"Have a lovely visit. If you need anything, dial '0' from the wall telephone."

"Thanks again," Helena whispered, and took a deep breath before stepping through the open door and facing her parents.

She didn't know what she'd expected, but they looked... old. And tired. Her eyes welled with tears immediately, before they'd even noticed someone was there.

Her father noticed first, and his eyes went wide and teary - she could see that even from across the room. "HG?" he asked, blinking.

"Yes, Dad," she whispered, her tears spilling over and streaming down her cheeks.

"Is that really you?" he asked, starting to struggle to his feet.

"Yes, Dad," she said again, letting go of Myka's hand to cross the room to him. "Don't get up, please," she said, seeing it was hard for him.

"My little pumpkin," he said, starting to cry, holding his arms out to her. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Myka breathed a sigh of relief, but was still on edge at Helena's mother's icy reaction. She had glanced once at her daughter and returned her eyes to the television.

"But Charles visits you all the time... didn't he tell you he was living with me?"

Her father shook his head, starting to try to get up again when she hadn't yet hugged him.

"Sorry," she said, leaning down to let him hug her so he wouldn't keep trying to get up. When his arms went around her, she held back a sob, raising hers to embrace him as well. "He must not have given you my number, then, either," she realized.

"No, pumpkin," Joseph said, squeezing her for all he was worth. "I would have called you."

"You never called me in school," she whispered, finally extracting herself from the hug and sitting down in the empty chair next to his bed.

"Your mother had a tight hold on me in those days," he said, clearly ashamed. "I can't tell you how sorry I am, Helena. Not a day has gone by that I didn't think of you."

"Oh for pity's sake, I'm trying to watch the television," Sarah spoke up bitterly. "You should't be here, daughter. And who is this? Who is this girl?"

Myka's eyes widened, then narrowed. "I'm a friend of your daughter's. Not that you have any right to know a damn thing."

"Friend?" Sarah sneered. "That's doubtful."

Something in her demeanor made Myka question the truth of her venom and whether it might not be more like envy than judgment, but she kept her thoughts on that to herself.

Helena stood up and turned to face her mother. "Hello, Mum," she said, wiping at her eyes.

"Your father may be glad to see you, Helena, I am not. How dare you bring this girl into our home?"

"Sarah, that's enough," Joseph barked. "It's time."

"Don't you dare," Sarah hissed, her eyes practically slits.

"Then you'd better," Joseph said, and Myka suddenly realized she was right. It was envy. Everything fell into place.

Helena had no idea what was going on. "Dad?"

"Leave, right this instant!" Sarah shrieked at the two of them.

"That's it!" Joseph said, slamming his hand down on his dinner tray, which was beside him on a rolling platform. "Helena, your mother sent you to that school because her parents sent her to that school, do you understand?"

Helena fell back into the chair she'd just vacated, her heart hammering in her chest, vision blurring in from the edges.

"Joseph!" Sarah screamed, her voice more shrill than anything Myka had ever heard. She started to get out of bed but her husband's booming voice stopped her.

"Sarah Wells, you keep your Goddamn ass in that bed and you look at your daughter and apologize to her and you tell her the truth!" he bellowed.

Helena looked back and forth between the two of them, and then helplessly to Myka. She felt like she was going to pass out.

Myka saw the look and quickly went to her, crouching down in front of her. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"I need air," Helena wheezed.

"Come on," Myka said, helping her to her feet and making sure she was steady. "We'll be right back," she told Joseph, keeping a hold on Helena's arm to guide her out of the room and out of the home.

When the cool breeze hit her face, Helena sucked in a deep breath, slinking down the door of the building to sit on the cement walkway. "What the bloody fuck is happening?" she gasped quietly.

"I think your mother's gay," Myka offered awkwardly.

"Bloody fucking impossible," Helena continued to wheeze slightly, though much more air was getting in to her lungs now.

"We don't have to go back in if you don't want to," Myka said, sitting down next to her. "But... and this may just be the impression I'm getting... but it seems like your dad would be okay with it if you shot your mother."

Helena leaned her head on Myka's shoulder and laughed wistfully. "Oh, Myka," she said fondly. "You are a gem." Then she blinked. "And you shouldn't be sitting on the ground in that dress. I know it's late but anyone who walks by can see things best kept for-- well, best kept."

Myka's body gave a pleasant little thrum that vibrated through her bones. "Best kept for your eyes only?" she asked.

Helena flushed. "I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," Myka purred. "I like the idea." And with that she quickly got to her feet and brushed off the back of her dress, then held a hand down to help Helena up. "Are you ready?"

Helena brushed herself off as well and nodded. "Yes."

They showed themselves back to room 42 but stopped short of appearing in the doorway when they heard voices from within.

"When she comes back in here, you are going to tell her everything," Joseph was saying.

"You can tell her whatever you like, but I can't and I won't," Sarah hissed angrily. "I won't do it, Joseph. It's far too late, anyway."

Helena screwed up her courage and stepped inside. "It's never too late, Mum," she whispered.

"Oh and now you've graduated to eavesdropping! How lovely!" Sarah said, gettiing out of bed and skirting Myka and Helena to get to the door. "I'll be in the common room until they've gone," she said to Joseph, and walked out.

Helena couldn't help the tears in her eyes yet again. "Dad, why does she hate me?" she asked, sinking into the chair beside his bed.

"She doesn't hate you, pumpkin, she hates herself," Joseph said gently, rolling onto his side and reaching for Helena's hand.

Helena allowed him to take it, then leaned over and sobbed against his chest.

Myka had promised not to leave the room, but she lingered in the doorway to give Helena at least some semblance of privacy with her father. What she really wished she could do was go knock some sense into Sarah.

Helena heard Myka's steps stop in the doorway and she picked her head up long enough to say "it's okay, Myka, you can wait outside if you're uncomfortable. I'm okay with my dad."

Myka crossed quickly to her and kissed the back of her head, giving Joseph a little smile. "Text when you want me to come back in," she whispered.

Helena nodded, grateful for the affection, and dropped her head back onto her father's chest.

\--

Myka found the common room easily and since Sarah was the only one in it at this hour, she did not feel bad about walking over and turning off the tv. When Sarah looked at her sharply, she spoke, beating her to the punch. "You are a real piece of shit, Mrs. Wells," she said, eyes narrowed.

"Don't I know it," Sarah replied scathingly. "I don't need you to tell me."

"I don't get it. The jig is up. Why don't you just apologize to her?"

"Because I'm a coward," Sarah snapped. "And I've ruined her life, so what good would it do either of us to even speak to each other?"

Myka sat in the chair next to her. "That's the thing, Sarah. Despite your best efforts, her life isn't ruined. She's still strong and resilient and amazing, and yes, she's still gay. Boarding school doesn't change that and you damn well know it. And you know what else? To this day she just thinks you hate her, when all she's ever wanted was for you to love her. What is wrong with you?"

"I couldn't take it."

"I, I, I," Myka said. "That's all I'm hearing. It's not about you, Sarah, it's about Helena. Your child. Your child, who they tried beating into submission because of you."

"They discipline the children with rulers, I'd hardly call it beat--"

Myka put her face right into Sarah's personal space and interrupted her in a harsh whisper, "the Headmaster beat her so badly with a cane that she has scars!"

The wind seemed to waft slowly out of Sarah's sails at that piece of unwanted news, and Myka saw the first chink in her carefully constructed armor.

Encouraged, she continued. "You can't make a child straight, you can only make them ashamed of who they are. I would think that after it happened to you, you would never put your own child through it."

"I survived," Sarah choked out, though her voice was finally thick with emotion. "I married a man and had children. I had a good, normal life. I wanted that for Helena."

"Stop lying," Myka said, her voice gentling. "It does no one any good. You're miserable now and you were miserable then. You can't be happy when you're living a lie. You survived, yes. But you never truly had a life. That's what you wanted for Helena, because you couldn't bear to see her happy when you could never be."

Sarah's lower lip quivered and she shrugged her shoulders, looking away from Myka. "You're right. I don't know who you are or how you know so much about me, but you're right. I was bitter and angry and jealous and I made the worst mistake of my life, and then I was so riddled with guilt that I moved my family across the world, compounding that mistake. And I could never tell her I was wrong. I still can't. Like I said, I'm a coward."

Myka took her hand.

Sarah jumped, head spinning back around to face her. "What are you doing?"

"Please, Sarah. It's not too late. You don't even have to tell her you were wrong. Just tell her you love her... or something, anything besides pretending to hate her. It's not fair. If you really hated her I wouldn't ask it of you, but I can see that you love her. Please, for once, make the right choice even if it hurts you. Even if it kills you."

"How am I supposed to do that when she suffered so much because of me?"

Myka waited until she had Sarah's gaze, then said softly, "she's still suffering because of you. Don't you understand? Her pain didn't end when she left that school. She still struggles and thinks it's not okay to be who she is. And she is incredible. She deserves to be free. Please, be her mother for five seconds."

Sarah finally took her hand out of Myka's and started fumbling with the hem of her pajama top, shaking her head. "I don't know, I don't know," she repeated. "I don't know."

Myka took her arm and carefully pulled her to her feet. "But _I_ know," she said. "Come on."

Helena was still sitting with her head on Joseph's chest when they returned to the room. Myka went inside but Sarah hung in the doorway, still fumbling with her shirt. When she saw her daughter's tear-stained face turn her way, her own face finally twisted into a mask of pain and guilt. "Helena," she said.

That one word from her mother sounded different than any she'd ever heard over all the years of her life. She didn't know what Myka had said, but whatever it was, her mother had changed her tone. "Mum," she whispered, not daring to get up from the chair in case she was misjudging the situation.

"I'm so sor--" she choked out, squeezing her shirt until her knuckles were white. "I'm so sorry..."

When Helena stood up, Sarah held out her hand to stop her approach.

"Please, no, I can't. I can't. Not yet. I can't. I can't."

Helena held her breath and nodded. It didn't hurt as much as being brushed off or told to leave, even though it still hurt. "I understand."

"You don't understand, but maybe your frien-- your girlfriend can explain it to you," Sarah said, her voice anguished and regretful and full of self-directed anger.

Helena blushed at Myka's smirk when Sarah said 'girlfriend'. "All right, Mum," she said, and turned back to her father. "Dad... I'll leave you my number. If you want it."

"Of course," he said, pulling out his cell phone from his bedside table drawer and putting on his glasses. "Go ahead."

She gave him the number and double checked after he put it in that it was right, then kissed his cheek. "Good night, Dad."

"I love you, pumpkin," Joseph said, kissing her cheek in turn. "It was nice to meet you, Myka," he then said, giving her a friendly wave.

"It was very nice to meet you," Myka replied.

"Take good care of my daughter..."

"Absolutely."

Helena blushed again, then preceded Myka out of the room and down the hall. She felt a little bit like she was walking on air.

When they were outside, Helena threw her arms around Myka. "Thank you," she said, squeezing her impossibly tight. "You just gave me the best gift I've ever received in my life. Thank you, Myka." She took Myka's face in her hands and kissed her.

Myka's surprise only lasted a few milliseconds before she melted into the kiss, squeezing Helena back. "No thanks necessary," she murmured. "You deserve to be happy."

"Did you tell my mum we were girlfriends?" Helena asked when they pulled apart. "I saw your smirk back in there..."

Myka laughed. "I didn't, actually. I guess it's just obvious I care about you."

"I'm not sure what I did to make you care about me," Helena said. "You're very stubborn, I think."

Myka slid her hands down to Helena's ass and picked her up.

Helena squealed and wrapped her legs around Myka's waist for security. "Myka!"

Myka squeezed her ass and kissed her cheek at the same time, then started carrying her to the car.

Helena let out a delighted laugh, struggling to get down. "I am perfectly capable of walking to the car," she protested.  
  
Myka relented and let her down, fishing her keys out of her purse and unlocking the car as they reached it.

"I'm doing inventory tomorrow at the warehouse; would you care to join me?" Helena asked, only slightly unsure of herself once she was in and buckled.

"Sure," Myka said without even really having to think about it. "What time?"

Helena bit her lip and looked sideways at Myka. "I thought you might want to stay the night..."

Myka's core gave a surge of want, but she tamped down on it. "Platonically," she replied. "Today was really important for you and your emotions are really, really strong right now. I won't take advantage, but I would love to stay the night."

Helena blushed, part of her disappointed at the answer but a bigger part of her humbled and grateful to have someone who obviously cared so much about her. "I accept your terms," she said with a quirky half smile. "Do we need to swing by your house for toiletries and sleepwear?"

"I'll grab a toothbrush at that corner store by your house," Myka said.

"And sleepwear?"

"I said platonic, not prudish..."

"Oh, no," Helena said, vehemently shaking her head. "Not a chance, Myka. I know you don't expect me to sleep in a bed with you naked, platonically."

Myka cackled gleefully. "I'm joking. I'll sleep in my dress."

"That's not much better," Helena muttered.

Myka's cackle renewed at that response. "You'll survive."

"You're very cruel, you know," Helena said with a 'hmph'. "You awaken my libido and then immediately imprison it."

Even though Helena was pouting and poking fun at her, Myka could hear the undercurrent of truth in her complaint and she sobered instantly. "I don't want to be the girl you regret being with in the morning," she whispered.

Helena melted. "I could never truly regret being with you, Myka," she whispered back. "Even if I have momentary freak-outs, I'll never regret a moment of my time with you. But that said, I completely understand your concern and have nothing but respect for your decision. I won't tease anymore."

"It's not an easy decision, believe me," Myka said, pulling into the parking lot of the corner store. "Be right back," she said, leaving the car running as she ran in for a toothbrush.

Helena watched her through the store windows, finding herself smiling at every little nuance that made Myka who she was. The way her brows furrowed as she looked at the options, which in a convenience store honestly there are maybe two choices of toothbrush; the way her face smoothed out when she made a decision; the way her smile reached all the way to her eyes when she spoke to the clerk and paid for the toothbrush. Everything just made her so Myka.

"What?" Myka asked when she got back in the car and started the short drive to Helena's.

"What do you mean what?" Helena asked.

"You were looking at me funny."

"I was appreciating all the things that make you you," Helena said, then facepalmed at how sappy she sounded. But it was true, and she was no liar.

"Oh," Myka said, blushing as she turned her eyes back to the road. They were at Helena's in about two minutes, and the growl from beside her made her turn her head in alarm.

"What is he still doing here?" Helena spouted angrily as she got out of the car and stormed toward the house. "He'd better be packing is what he'd better be doing!"

Myka slammed the car into park and nearly jumped out, carefully running to keep up with Helena (running in heels had never been her favorite activity).

Charles wasn't packing. He was drinking milk out of the carton and watching television.

"What are you still doing here?" Helena asked him angrily, standing between him and the television.

"I changed my mind," he said. "Move, you're blocking the tv."

"No. I want you out. Right now. Pack your things and get out."

His jaw dropped. "What? You can't kick me out... and it's the middle of the night..." He actually seemed concerned.

"I most certainly can kick you out, and I don't care what time of the night it is. You have one hour. Anything else will be waiting for you on the front lawn. I mean it, Charles. Get up, get your things and go."

"Look, HG, I--"

"Get out!" Helena shrieked. "I want you out!" The flat screen tv in the living room was his, and to illustrate her point she jerked the plug out of the wall and picked up the tv, stalking to the front door and deftly opening it one-handed. She slammed the screen door open and threw his television down the stairs. It turned over once, twice, then landed in the grass, the screen cracked but not shattered.

Myka was fucking floored. In a really awesome, impressed way. She stood in the kitchen doorway with her arms folded over her chest, ready to intervene if necessary, but it seemed like Helena had this.

Charles was on his feet, screaming and flailing as he watched his sister chuck his tv down the front steps. "Are you fucking crazy?"

"How long have you known about Mum?" she shouted in his face.

"What about her?" he asked, playing dumb, but Helena could tell he knew exactly what she meant by the way his eyes shifted.

"How long?" she thundered, shoving him hard in the chest until he fell back onto the couch.

He finally had the good sense to look cowed, and just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

"But you knew. You knew, and you didn't tell me. You just let me feel alone and unloved. You're worse than anyone. I never want to see you again, Charles. Get out."

"I'm going!" he said frantically when she headed toward his stereo.

She went to the kitchen and put the oven timer on for an hour, then looked at Myka. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving, actually, now that you mention it."

"There's an all-night pizza place a few blocks up," Helena told her. "Be gone by the time we get back, Charles," she then said in finality to her brother.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read! Comments welcome!
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/lexus_grey

Thankfully he was indeed gone when they got back. His key was on the kitchen table. Sighing with relief, Helena took it and put it in her pocket.

"Shouldn't that be mine now?" Myka teased, stepping close to her and trying to get her hand in Helena's pocket.

Helena twisted away with a girlish laugh and batted at Myka's hand. "You have to earn that," she teased back.

"And how will I do that?"

"Not platonically."

Instead of laughing, Myka hooked her fingers in Helena's belt loops and pulled their hips together, then slid a hand around to her ass, palming one cheek, the fingers of her other hand staying tightly closed around the belt loop.

Helena gasped, both of her hands going to Myka's chest, resting over her sternum, fingers curling softly against the fabric of her dress, almost as if she were playing the piano. "This doesn't feel platonic," she pointed out quietly.

"Something you said about imprisoning your libido just didn't seem right," Myka hummed, giving her ass cheek a good squeeze as she kissed her.

"I was mostly only teasing you but I won't complain about being kissed," Helena said, eyelashes fluttering as she relished the feeling of Myka's lips on hers.

Myka kissed her senseless and when she pulled back several long, sweet moments later, she held up the key triumphantly in her hand, smirking.

"Fucking tart!" Helena exclaimed, scandalized, wide eyes going from the key to Myka's face and back to the key. "You manipulative, deceitful little fuck..."

Myka started backing away as Helena advanced on her. She couldn't help the girly sound that escaped, something like a nervous giggle.

"Did you just giggle?" Helena asked, stopping her advance.

"No," Myka lied gravely.

"You giggled. In my kitchen," Helena insisted. "We don't do that here..." She crept closer until she had Myka pressed lightly against the wall. "This kitchen is for counting extortion and drug money and smuggling weapons. It is not for giggling," she said, her voice low as she pushed into Myka, lips descending on an unexpecting bare shoulder and kissing, then teeth playfully biting.

"It'll never happen again," Myka said, closing her eyes at the amazing sensation of Helena's mouth on her bare skin.

"See that it doesn't," Helena agreed, snaking her tongue along Myka's shoulder to her neck, one hand wrapping around Myka's that held the key and gently prying it from her fingers. "This is not yours," she breathed against a pulsing tendon at Myka's throat. "Not yet."

"I'm just-- I'm just-- you're making me rethink the platonic thing," Myka gasped, leaning her head back against the wall. "I think you've actually made me change my mind entirely."

"But Myka," Helena whispered, trailing the edge of the key down Myka's chest and between her breasts. "What would it say about me if I went back on your wishes?"

"Do you swear on your criminal empire that you won't throw me out in the morning?" It was getting hard to breathe. Myka swallowed past a very dry throat.

"It's already morning, technically," Helena purred. "It's after midnight." She tucked the key back into her pocket and pressed herself fully against Myka. "But I swear."

"And you're sure you really want-- me?" Myka couldn't stop herself from asking, insecurities flaring to life.

"More than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my entire life," Helena said honestly. "I may be afraid, but that doesn't make the wanting any less powerful or all consuming."

"What are you afraid of?" It could be any number of things that she already knew Helena was afraid of, but somehow this time it sounded different.

"It's been a very long time for me, you have to remember that, and when I last did this I was just a girl..."

Helena was afraid of not being able to please her. Myka's chest constricted and her hands went to Helena's hips, resting idly there. "It's an instinct, Helena, it's not something you can have and lose. Just be yourself and don't do anything you don' t want to do," she said, hopefully helping ease Helena's worry.

"I want to do a plethora of things," Helena said, eyes sparkling.

"Why does such a geeky word sound so sexy coming from you?" Myka asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know," Helena said, sliding her hands over Myka's belly and up her sides. "How about multitude?"

"Still sexy." Myka bit her lip, squeezing Helena's waist.

"Myriad?"

"Even better."

"Myka..."

"Yes?"

"Take me upstairs?"

Myka groaned and slid her hands down further to lift Helena up, and when legs wrapped tightly around her she headed for the stairs.

"I didn't mean carry me," Helena laughed. "But this'll do."

"Maybe you should've used a less ambiguous word than 'take', then... like drag or lead."

"Drag!" Helena asked, pretending to be offended.

"Well it's specific," Myka smirked. She carried Helena into the bedroom and set her down on the edge of the bed. "You are so fucking beautiful," she sighed, running her hands over Helena's shoulders, then up and down her arms.

Helena flushed and caught Myka's wrists, bringing them to her lips and kissing the underside of each one in turn. "You take my breath away," she whispered. "Come here."

Myka climbed onto the bed on her knees, straddling Helena's lap. "Yes?"

"I just wanted you closer," Helena said, pulling Myka to her and burying her face against the other woman's collarbone. She groaned when Myka's weight settled on her thighs and she realized it was just underwear between her jeans and Myka's bare skin. The dress was bunched almost around her hips. "Sweet Christ," she murmured, flexing the muscles of one thigh experimentally.

Myka gasped; the subtle flex would be barely noticeable under normal circumstances, but in her sensitized state it felt like Helena was grinding into her.

"I'm so fucking nervous," Helena admitted, running her hands up and down Myka's back, keeping her face pressed into the protective sharpness of Myka's collarbone.

"We don't have to--"

"I said nervous, not hesitant or indecisive," Helena interrupted, raking her nails lightly down Myka's back through the thin material of her dress. "I'm aching for you. I'm just nervous."

"Take your time," Myka said with a nod, arching away from the featherlight nails on her back. "Ohhh..."

"Do you like that?" Helena asked, dragging her fingertips back up and raking her nails down again.

"I do," Myka admitted, shivering and gripping Helena's waist to anchor herself. "It feels incredible."

A thought struck Helena and she brought one hand up to scrutinize her manicured nails. "Are my fingernails too long for...?"

Myka had honestly not thought that far ahead and as she looked at Helena's fingernails she gave a sigh of relief. "No, they're fine."

"Thank God," Helena rolled her eyes, scraping said nails along the back of Myka's neck and then taking a gentle fistful of hair and massaging Myka's scalp.

"Ohhhh," Myka moaned again, eyes closing at the blissful feeling. "I could let you do that all night."

"I would do that all night for you," Helena said seriously, bringing their foreheads together. "I'd like to do other things tonight, though, if that's all right..."

"Anything you want," Myka said, opening her eyes to stare into Helena's darker ones.

"I want to touch you everywhere," Helena informed her. "May I take off your dress?"

Helena's words were barely a breath but she could feel them against her lips. She swallowed thickly and tried to answer vocally but nothing came out so she nodded instead.

Eyes darting down to watch her hands, Helena took hold of the bunched up skirt of the dress and started to slowly inch it upward, in awe of every new expanse of skin revealed. "Myka," she said, finally lifting the dress up and off, letting it fall to the floor. She ducked her head and softly kissed Myka's left flank, just below her ribs. Her hands went around and fumbled with the clasp of the other woman's bra until it popped open, and she dragged her fingers backwards, taking the garment with it, revealing Myka's perfect breasts to her heated gaze.

The way Helena was looking at her, so reverently, made her face flush. She felt so exposed, just in her panties and heels - like Helena had been earlier that night. Then suddenly all thought fled in the wake of a soft, warm mouth closing over one of her nipples.

Helena moaned into Myka's flesh, committing the feel, smell and taste of her skin to memory as she suckled gently at one perfect breast. Her hands trembled as she brought them to Myka's back once more and drew her nails down again. Something she knew Myka liked - she could fall back on it when she forgot how to breathe.

Breathing was an issue for Myka as well. She never thought she would actually get to be with Helena like this. Never thought Helena would want to do this; would be comfortable enough to do this. "You feel amazing," she said, then gasped as Helena lightly bit her nipple. "Oh," she said playfully, then. "Taking liberties, I see..."

Helena pulled more of Myka's breast into her mouth, sucking and kissing and licking in a paradoxically calm yet unhinged sort of way.

Myka could feel the storm brewing and reveled in it.

Helena moved them so she could lay Myka down on the bed and hover over her on hands and knees. "I'm trembling all over," she whispered her confession.

"You're beautiful," Myka whispered back her own. "You're making me so wet, Helena..."

Helena was afraid to touch her there and find out; afraid to lose control. "What if I can't control myself and I'm too rough?" she asked, the thought practically crippling.

"No such thing exists," Myka promised. "And besides that... you won't."

Hesitant fingers curled into the waistband of Myka's panties.

"I trust you, Helena, but if you're not comfortable, we'll wait. I mean that with all my heart."

"God, I want to," Helena groaned, curling her fingers harder, tugging on Myka's panties enough to lower them a few inches.

Myka squirmed, her hips jerking, and she forced herself to hold still.

Helena dropped her head and nuzzled her cheek into the crotch of Myka's panties, inhaling sharply and letting out the most indecent sound Myka had ever heard.

In an instant her panties were around her knees and Helena's face was buried between her legs, tongue dragging through drenched folds.

Myka nearly screamed with the unexpected fucking thrill that rocketed through her. Her hands flew to the headboard behind her to avoid wrapping in Helena's hair. "Jesus Christ," she hissed.

Helena was lost, licking and biting and kissing every inch of soaked flesh she could get her mouth on. All thoughts of nervousness and inadequacy fled when she heard those two words from the woman beneath her and the breathless tone in which they were said, not to mention the way Myka was suddenly white-knuckling the headboard.

She flicked her tongue incessantly and brought a hand up between Myka's legs, easing two fingers inside her.

Myka did cry out at that, arching her back up off the bed, trying to spread her legs for Helena but her panties around her knees kept her from doing so. "Off? Please?" She drew one leg up to try to get it out of the panties and they got tangled around the stilletto of her shoe.

Helena stopped to take off Myka's shoes and toss them across the room, then helped her out of her panties and returned her focus between now spread thighs, two fingers finding their way back in and her mouth latched firmly onto Myka's swollen clit.

Myka delayed her impending climax as long as she could, never wanting Helena to stop, but with fingers inside her and a relentless tongue fluttering over her clit she couldn't hold on very long and crashed into oblivion with a keening cry.

Helena calmed her down with soothing strokes and gently slid out, kissing her way up Myka's body to her lips. "Will it gross you out if I kiss you now?" she asked, eyes searching Myka's for anything unspoken.

Myka barely had the energy to laugh but a chuckle forced its way out regardless. "Not at all," she promised. "Please, kiss me."

Helena pressed their lips together, trying to tell Myka without words what she couldn't yet say. Every feeling she had in her was communicated in the way she lightly touched, tenderly licked, the way she pulled back and smiled and then kissed Myka again.

Myka's arms went around Helena and pulled, their bodies flat against each other, Helena laying on top of her. "I want you naked," she breathed into Helena's ear. "Completely, utterly, stitchlessly naked. Even your earrings, I want out, so the only thing I'm touching is you."

Helena was glad she was laying on top of Myka or her arms would have given out at hearing that. Her cheeks flamed and she hid her face in Myka's neck. "Oh," she said shyly.

"Did you think I was going to let you make me feel like that and not want to touch you afterward?" Myka asked, raising an eyebrow. "How naughty of you."

Helena blushed harder and laughed, kissing Myka's throat as she slowly sat back up, straddling her lover's thighs. Her hands went to one earring and carefully removed it, then the other, and she reached over to set them on the nightstand. She held her hands in front of Myka, then. "And these?"

"I've seen you playing with them when you're nervous. Do you need to keep them on?"

"They are somewhat of a protective barrier," Helena admitted, starting to loosen one of her rings and pull it off. "I may feel strange without them, but after that little speech you gave, I know you want me completely, utterly naked." She removed all of them one by one and set them on the nightstand beside her earrings, flexing her fingers and rubbing the indentations they left behind. She did feel naked without them, even though she hadn't yet taken off her clothes.

"Are you okay?" Myka asked, resting her hands on Helena's knees.

"Yes," Helena replied, still rubbing her fingers absently. "More naked than I'm used to, but yes, I am fine," she added with a smile, finally moving to undo the buttons of her shirt. "Thank you for asking."

Myka nodded and watched her slowly undress. She remembered Helena hadn't had time to put on a bra earlier, so when the shirt came off, she was topless. "Fuck my life, I'll never get enough of seeing you like this," she groaned.

"And I've not even taken off my pants," Helena purred, feeling truly beautiful with the way Myka looked at her and spoke to her.

"You just affect me so much," Myka said, tears in her eyes as she sat up and wrapped her arms around Helena.

Helena returned the embrace, holding her tightly and running fingers through her long, silky curls. "I believe the feeling's mutual," she said softly. "And I have you to thank for unlocking the chains around my life. Do you know how powerful my gratitude is and how deeply I appreciate that you didn't give up on me? That you haven't given up on me? I wouldn't have been able to bear it if you made me feel all these things and then disappeared."

"Never," Myka whispered fiercely. "Never, Helena. I wouldn't have pushed you if I wasn't planning to stick around." Then, slyly, she pulled back to look at Helena with a little smirk. "Feel what things?"

"Don't you be sneaky," Helena said, her own grin working its way onto her face. "Now do you want me naked or not?"

"You're already halfway there... why stop now?" Myka asked, letting go of her and laying back down, hands folded behind her head.

Helena stood and kicked her shoes off, then shimmied out of her pants, leaving her in her black lace thong. She stared at Myka, biting her lip. "These too?" she teased.

Myka's biceps flexed with the effort not to jump up and tear the panties off of her lover. "Mhmm," she simply hummed casually.

Helena pushed them down and stepped out of them, shy again under Myka's penetrating gaze, and once she was naked she quickly climbed back on top of her lover, moaning appreciatively at the feel of skin on skin as she lay down.

Myka rolled them over so she was on top, then sat up so she was straddling Helena's waist and took one of her hands, taking over the task of rubbing the indents left behind by her rings. She brought Helena's hand to her lips and kissed each mark, nibbling a few of them, then drew Helena's index finger into her mouth.

Helena gasped, her eyes riveted to Myka's mouth, sense of touch memorizing the way Myka's tongue and teeth felt against her fingertip. "That's an incredibly erotic sensation," she noted aloud.

Myka sucked and bit softly at it before releasing it with a quiet pop, then raked her nails lightly down Helena's chest and over her stomach. She loved the way Helena's muscles quivered under her touch. When she started to back herself off of her lover's waist toward her thighs and her fingers started crawling lower and lower, Helena stopped her.

"Wait," Helena said, tears in her eyes.

Myka blinked but stopped immediately, looking up at her. "What's wrong?"

"You understand that I really am a criminal, right? That any of Agent Lattimer's inquiries could land me in jail if I make one wrong move or take one wrong step? I've shot people and I've tortured people and I don't know if you understand that's all really and truly what I do for a living, I mean maybe you just think it's a joke and I--"

"Helena," Myka interrupted her with a finger to her lips. "You're panicking. I know all those drugs and guns are serious. If you shot someone, they deserved it. I know you're a criminal in the eyes of the law. I fell for you anyway. Look at me..." When Helena reluctantly looked at her, she said it again. "I fell for you anyway. I'm under no illusions about you. I don't think you're going to wake up one day and leave your criminal empire to be a waitress or a lawyer or a record store clerk. I wouldn't change a thing about you. I fell for you just as you are."

Helena stared at her in a bit of shock, letting her words sink in, and reached up to run her hands up and down Myka's biceps. "Fell for me?" she breathed.

"You heard the whole speech, not just that part, right?" Myka asked, only half joking.

Helena nodded, trying not to let her tears spill over. She'd cried enough for one day. "Believe me, I've fallen rather hard myself," she said quietly, swallowing past the lump of emotion lodged in her throat.

"I'm not one of those girls that says something's okay but really expects it to change anyway. You're a mid-level mafiosa. I get that. Just... put me on your security detail because if anyone ever takes a shot at you again I expect to be right there to stop them. Deal?"

It was more than Helena could have hoped for. "Deal," she promised, pulling Myka down on top of her and then rolling them both onto their sides facing each other. "At the risk of sounding cliched, what did I ever do to deserve you, Myka?"

"You probably pissed off some deity or another," Myka said with a shrug.

Helena laughed and kissed her. "More like some deity or another favors me greatly," she corrected her lover. "I suddenly can't imagine how I survived all this time without you."

"You don't have to imagine it; I can tell you how you survived," Myka said, pulling her close. "Because your strength of character is indomitable despite all the people who tried to break you down. Because you're brave and daring and incredible. And unrelated to your survival, I'll just have you know that you are beautiful and sexy and one touch from you drives me insane with want."

"Thank you," Helena whispered, resting her forehead against Myka's. "I find you breathtakingly perfect and interminably enticing, and I think you know how quickly your touch unravels me."

"I do," Myka agreed. "I was hoping that could be my secret weapon but clearly it's not a secret."

"I can pretend to forget, if you like?"

Myka laughed softly and shook her head. "No. I like you knowing."

"Fair enough." Helena nuzzled closer to her and reached down to pull the top sheet over them. "We should sleep while we can. We've got work to do tomorrow."

"I thought you were the boss and we could go in any time we wanted," Myka pouted.

"I am, and we can. I'm just trying to be responsible here," Helena teased.

"All right," Myka relented, kissing her. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams."

"You too."

Sleeping in Myka's arms provided the best dreams Helena could remember having in her entire life and seemed to keep her nightmares at bay. She really didn't know what she'd done to deserve having Myka in her life like this, but whatever the reason, she would be forever grateful.


End file.
